Keep Showing Up
by mojor
Summary: Kate Beckett has put 'the job' first for as long as she can remember; but now that she's recognised she wants more what's it going to take to get her to make that leap? Episode style romance/crime-fic. Angst Free. No graphic violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Set anywhere after 4x12 (Dial M for Mayor) with minor references to episodes prior to that. No major spoilers but having seen Season 4 is pretty much essential (although I imagine everyone here that isn't in the US has managed to figure out a way to download season 4 online!)**

**I don't know what TPTB have in mind for Esplanie but I have them tentatively making inroads on a relationship again. It's background only, but that's where my head's at.**

**This story is unfinished but I am working at it and plan for updates to be frequent-ish! I am ****very**** open to feedback. I generally only ever manage to finish short stories and my attempts at longer fics lay languishing on my hard drive to this day ;p This is much longer (and so much slower!) than the other two stories I posted last week and I am enjoying the challenge of writing and pacing something with more depth. **

**This is my attempt at telling a story not unlike what we see on the show with a couple of cases, some character development, and bit of banter with the whole team... but with the added bonus of kissage and, eventually, nakedness ;) i promise! *snort***

**Feedback (so long as it's respectful) to help me improve my writing and story-telling skills would be cherished immensely!**

**Huge thanks to Madsthenerdygirl for her comments and contribution, and for making this even more fun.**

**.**

Keep Showing Up

Beckett tightened her grip on her glock and dove for cover. The barking retort of gunfire echoed in the warehouse and shards of concrete rained down on her. With her head pressed low to the ground she shuffled quickly forward. Her cover was little more than a series of steel girders stacked two foot high. If Beard-Man moved from the safety of his minivan at all he'd have a clear shot.

"Castle?" She knew drawing attention to her position was not the smartest move but the suspect firing on her was not her only concern. Beard-Man had initially had two bodyguards and she'd lost sight of them both. And her partner.

A scuff and muffled cursing from behind a stack of wooden pallets had her flipping onto her side, back pressed into the cold metal of the girders, her glock extended.

A single muted shot –a silencer, Muscle-Man Number One– was followed by a _ting _as the bullet ricocheted. A girly squeal and a solid "oof" told her who was behind the pallets but not if he were okay.

"Castle?" she called again.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" somehow he managed to make it sound like he was keeping her from burger night at Remy's instead of the slightly more serious situation they currently found themselves in

She could hear him moving closer. His grunting and shuffling coming to a stop a few yards away and she assumed he had found more solid cover behind something beyond the pallets. "Are you alright?"

"Just peachy. Although I think my jacket has seen better days."

Beckett fought the urge to roll her eyes. She also fought the urge to crawl across the open space between their respective hiding places to check for herself.

Risking a peek back towards Beard-Man, the minivan, and the large open roller door that was the only known exit to the warehouse Beckett tried to get a position on the three men. "Can you see anything from back there?" she whispered.

"The hairy Italian is perfectly silhouetted by a skylight. If I had a gun this would be all over by now."

"If you had a gun we'd probably be in even more trouble."

"Ah, Detective, I seem to recall a number of occasions where you've been very appreciative of my skills with a gun."

"Let's not start that again." Her voice betrayed her amusement and she both cursed, and praised, his ability to make her laugh even in the most unfunny of situations.

The banging of a car door startled her. Beard-Man was clearly planning to make a run for it. She had the plate details burned into her brain but there was no way she was letting him get out. He was a bad shot, the weakest of three. She could sit up and take him out before he'd even have a chance to aim at her... but his goons would be on her in an instant.

"Beckett!" Castle's voice was serious now, "my guy's gonna bail! Get over here!"

Castle's head appeared, just for an instant, around the corner of the pallets before he disappeared again. An instant later he peered back around, taking a slower look now that he had assured himself he was in no immediate danger. His gaze flicked from Kate to their suspect, a good fifty yards away, and then back over his shoulder.

"You can't stand up," he stated the obvious, "But if you can swing your legs towards me I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

"Just do it!" he glared at her now. "Hairy Italian is over by that pile of chicken feathers we saw. Aim high. He's on some kind of railing." Castle looked behind himself again.

Having rotated her body around so that she now faced away from the van and exit, her feet, probably visible to Beard-Man by now should he care to look, were pointed directly at Castle. A knot of tension curled in Beckett's belly. His plans were known for going very well of very badly.

"On three," he said, crouching low.

"What's on three?" she snapped at him.

"One."

"Two."

"Three." Hunched low, Castle lunged forward crossing the four yards of open space between them; he extended his arms keeping his body as far out of sight as possible. He grabbed Beckett's ankles and dragged her flat on her back across the concrete. She tilted her hips to put her weight on her back allowing her vest to reduce the friction. Her shirt rode up and she was doubly glad for her vest. The movement must have attracted Beard-Man's attention; Beckett was peripherally aware of his shout, but her focus was split between Castle and the, now visible, Hairy Italian Muscle-Man Number One.

Clenching her stomach muscles and holding her arms straight out and up she tried to take aim at the very badly concealed gunman. His attention was turned to his boss, looking for the reason for his shout, and she wouldn't get a better shot. But Castle kept on dragging her. She kicked out at him to get him to let go. He dropped her feet and crawled another yard to throw his back against a metal lockbox.

The scar across her ribs pulled sharply as she tilted and braced her body for the shot. Lying out in the open as she was she'd only get one chance. A quick trigger squeeze saw the suspect's torso spin as red blossomed across his chest. His feet rolled from the railing and, spinning, he fell to the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

A furious shout and a crash of glass pulled her attention further back into the depths of the storage area. She moved to roll to her feet and her breath left her body. Her left hand found its way unconsciously to her side and she grit her teeth refusing to give voice to the sharp pain. Then a hand was at her shoulder, another at her wrist, as Castle stepped over her and pulled her to her feet. He didn't stop to look at her; he didn't ask if she were alright, he just propelled them both behind the pallets and towards the minivan.

"Scary Old Guy is in the back," he whispered.

Beckett heard the banging and crashing of who-knew-what coming from the poorly lit bay well behind them. They shuffled together along the line of flimsy wooden pallets with Castle pressed tight against her back.

"You want to get the guy at the van first? You think that's Davis? Or take out the muscle?"

"Take out the muscle? Really, Castle?" Beckett stopped and turned to face her partner, one eyebrow raised. "That's what your literary genius came up with?"

With his chest rigid against her back and shoulder, and their faces far too close together, he apologised with a smile, "Sorry, having trouble thinking clearly, what with the gunfire and mad rush to save your life and all."

"I want to take him in," she gestured towards the van, "Where the hell are Ryan and Esposito!"

The sound of the engine roaring to life had them around the pallets and crossing the open warehouse floor in an instant. Tyres squealed and three quick shots echoed as Beckett took aim. A popping sound followed by the slapping of rubber was audible over the sound of the van's brief acceleration.

Running towards sunlight the detective and her partner rounded the door in time to see a familiar Crown Vic skid sideways and Esposito levelling his gun out the window. Shredded tyres skidded on gravel and the van came to a stop.

Trusting in the other detectives to take care of that particular problem Beckett flattened the palm of her left hand on Castle's chest and pushed him back into the warehouse. He backed up a couple of steps, startled at the sudden change of direction, before turning to follow his muse. She ran straight for the store room now, not bothering to conceal her movements. The loud crashing from scant minutes before had stopped and Castle searched frantically in the semi-darkness for their man. Beckett ran unerringly to the rear; she must have known something he didn't.

She didn't pause when they crossed the space where the Italian lay. She kicked the fallen pistol away from the body with her foot and kept running. Castle cursed. He could have used that!

A flick of orange reflected off shattered glass and they both became aware of the heat and whoosh-pop of a well-started fire. Beckett flattened out against the wall and Castle joined her. She met his gaze, her face tight, and with nothing more than eye movements and a small shake of her head said 'I'll go in. You stay here. Watch my back.'

She didn't wait for a reply. Spinning into the room, knees bent, arms braced Weaver-style, she moved in. Castle slid immediately to the corner and peered around; he allowed himself a quick glance in her direction before his eyes skittered around them taking in the rest of warehouse. He didn't take the silent command to watch her back lightly.

A call of, "NYPD! Don't move!" had him rushing in to follow her. Scary Old Guy lay slumped over a pile of blankets, panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Beckett noted the proximity of his weapon and the glazed look in his eyes. Smoke inhalation? Heart attack? Either way she moved on him, flipping him over and shackling his wrists in one smooth well-practiced movement.

Digging her phone from her pocket one-handed she pressed the speed dial for dispatch and requested an ambulance and fire crew. Her glock remained comfortingly in her grip as she scanned the store room noting the fire's progress and alert to any danger. Castle had dragged a blanket from the side wall and was flapping, ineffectually, at the edges of the fire.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"I'm not sure!" she would have laughed if her heart were not beating so fast. "You do know that there's a fire extinguisher behind you, right?"

"What?" he turned to look, "Damn it, woman!" he cursed and dropped the blanket. Tearing the large extinguisher off its hook and pulling the pin he sprayed white foam back and forth over the fire. He kept it up, moving further along the line of shelves, until the room stank of smoke and phosphate and the air hung heavy around them.

Sheathing her gun Beckett moved behind their suspect. Laying half conscious, his lips tinged blue; he looked more 'Old Guy' than 'Scary'. Linking her hands under his arms and around his chest she anchored her own weight and dragged him towards the door. The dusty concrete floor made for very little friction and he slid easily enough across the ground. His struggles were barely for show and he slumped against her legs when she came to a halt at the corner.

Patches of smoldering cardboard still lay smoking when the fire extinguisher spluttered the last of its foam. Only the odd flash of orange flame was still visible amongst the blanket of white and grey and black. Castle dropped the empty red bottle. The FDNY would take care of the rest.

"You think any of this is evidence?" he asked, his breath coming in short gasps.

"We'll need Crime Scene to catalogue it. We might get something."

Castle took in her position at the door more fully; the elderly man propped half upright and leaning against her lower legs, and he rushed to help. Slipping his arms in under hers and neatly replacing her body with his own he took the man's weight and continued to drag him towards the front of the warehouse.

She nodded her thanks and followed them out. A call of "Beckett?" from outside had her stepping past him.

"Back here, Ryan." She answered.

"Is Castle with you?"

"Yeah. We've got one injured," she glanced back to where she knew their other suspect lay, "And one dead."

Footsteps echoed as the detective moved to join them. Once they cleared the warehouse Castle lay their suspect on the ground. He took off his jacket and, twisting it into a rough bundle, poked it under his head.

He caught Ryan's questioning look, "The jacket is ruined anyway," Castle said, as if that explained his actions.

"I've got a bus coming." Beckett informed them both. "Espo alright with the other guy?" she asked, looking towards the man in question where he stood, leaning casually against the police car, arms folded.

"Yeah, he didn't struggle. Much." Ryan almost smiled.

The clean-cut detective gave Beckett and Castle a once over. "Although, you guys, you both look like _someone_ put up a struggle."

Beckett looked at the tear along Castle's purple shirt. It was one of her favourites. She hoped he bought a similar one to replace it. His hair stood up in all directions, black soot and flecks of white foam clung like macabre snowflakes. She noticed a small gash on his wrist, the surrounding skin already purpling.

"What happened?" she asked, nodding to his hand.

"Someone kicked me." He said, his voice far too cheerful.

She met his eyes to assess his humour and relaxed at what she saw; they were both okay. "You should have let go sooner," she smirked.

"What? And miss the show? Not a chance." Turning away so he couldn't see her face she made a show of looking for the paramedics. "Your wardrobe didn't fare much better, I'm afraid." Castle continued, stepping closer. She felt the brush of his hand at her back and looked over her shoulder.

"We'll have to go shopping." She joked.

"Why, Detective, I think I'd enjoy that very much."

"I was joking, Castle."

"Hmmm." His response sounded far less like an agreement and far too much like the issuing of a challenge.

###

Stepping off the elevator Castle quickly skimmed the precinct and, spotting his partner at her desk, quickened his step.

"You didn't go home and change?" Castle asked as soon as he was close enough to speak without being overheard. He placed a paper bag on the corner of her desk and, taking one coffee from its cardboard tray, handed it over.

"Some of us had paperwork to do first."

"Ah, paperwork." He removed his own coffee and tossed the cardboard tray into the trash can across the hall. He settled onto the edge of the desk next to her and glanced up at the additions to the murder board.

The scent of his shower gel and shampoo swirled and settled around her. Beckett's eyes darted across to him against her will. His hair was still damp at the nape of his neck, curling more than usual. He caught her looking, and she turned away to cover her embarrassment.

"So, that _was_ Davis at the warehouse?" He asked in the silence that followed.

"Yeah. Esposito and I took a run at him while you were home showering." She couldn't resist having a dig. "The boys are up at hospital now waiting for the other guy to be well enough to interview."

"Davis give anything up?"

"He's guilty, but he's not cracking."

"And the stuff in the boxes?" he studied the board. They now had photos of their three suspects and a series of notes in Beckett's neat handwriting that flowed below them.

"Still waiting on forensics. Lanie has Hairy Italian, Guglielmo Conti, in the morgue. She found blood under his fingernails and some interesting particulates in the tread of his sneakers."

Castle fought to keep up past the throaty sound of anything Italian rolling over Beckett's tongue. He wished he'd been watching her mouth when she'd said it. Could he ask her to say it again? No, that'd probably be weird. Blood under his fingernails?

"Blood?" he turned to look at her, his attention back on the case.

"Under Guglielmo Conti's fingernails, yeah. Lanie is trying to match them to Luisa now."

Oh, thank you, God. His gaze remained fixed on her mouth for a moment longer with the image of her tongue brushing the back of her teeth burned in his mind, "Sorry, did you say it was a match to Luisa?" She'd lost him again.

"What? No. Lanie's just got the samples now. She'll call with results." She stared at him, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just hungry." He grabbed the paper bag he'd left on the corner of the desk and proceeded to clear a space between them where they could eat and he could catch up on the detective work that had been done in his absence.

"What'd you get?" Beckett asked, leaning over to see.

"Lasagne. Alexis was cooking dinner when I went home. I stole some for you."

Opening the warm tupperware container Beckett inhaled, "Oh. My. God. This smells incredible."

"I know!" Castle's grin was huge. "She makes the best lasagne!"

He passed over cutlery and snagged himself a container from the bag. Settling on the edge of the desk he forced himself to read through the notes instead of watching his partner devour her dinner.

Davis' alibi was flimsy. He'd been seen arguing with the victim the day before. They had the van on traffic cameras only a block away from the crime scene. They needed motive...

Did she just moan?

Castle forced himself to swallow his mouthful and took a sip of coffee. "If we get this wrapped up in time you should come back to the loft for a proper dinner. Alexis made two trays." He could feel her teetering on the edge "I know the perfect bottle of cabernet to go with it."

"We'll see what we get out of the other bodyguard first. I want a confession on this one."

It was almost a yes.

###

They heard Esposito's voice before they saw them round the corner, "Dude, even for you that's lame. Lame, Bro!"

Ryan shook his head and his eyes screamed 'back me up!' as he looked between Castle and Beckett for support.

"I don't even want to know," was Beckett's reply. "How'd you go at the hospital?"

"What's this?" Esposito gestured towards the all-but-empty containers of lasagne.

"Castle bought food from home."

"Where's ours?" Ryan asked, sounding genuinely offended.

"Sorry, guys, there wasn't enough." He flinched when Beckett kicked his shin, "What? There wasn't! She hadn't put the second tray on yet!"

"The hospital, Espo! What did you get?" Beckett licked her fork and then dropped container and utensil back in the bag. She grabbed a serviette and wiped her hands, her focus on the manila folder in Javier's hands.

"Joe Santoro. He crumbled. The old man has family to support and he's not interested in going down with Davis. He's copped to destroying evidence but claims he doesn't know what it was that Davis ordered burnt. Says he wasn't around when Davis last met with Luisa, but that his partner was, and things got nasty. And," he paused to make sure he had their attention, "He said to go at Davis with the university angle. Says he's got more to hide than just Luisa Baker's death." His eyebrow rose and he smirked suggestively.

"Nice work." Beckett looked at her watch, "Six o'clock. Castle, you want to run past the University now? Should still be faculty around?"

"You want to know more before you have another go at Davis?"

"Don't I always?" she grabbed her coat and waited for Castle to catch up.


	2. Chapter 2

Detective Beckett's phone rang, interrupting the interview, and she excused herself and stepped to the side of the study room. Castle watched her go, trying to guess who the call was from by her to-the-point side of the conversation. He heard a hushed "...wait on the DNA," and took a guess; Lanie. Perhaps she had blood results?

He turned back to the middle-aged Fine Arts professor. He was keen to hear more about the database Davis was working on but experience told him to hold the questions until the cop half of their partnership was present for the answers. They'd already battled through two infuriatingly pointless leads before managing to catch a break.

"I've read your books, you know." Professor Lyman broke the silence. "I didn't want to say anything in front of the Detective. Didn't want her to think I don't appreciate the seriousness of the investigation..." she trailed off.

Castle took just a moment to adjust from New York Homicide Detective's plucky partner to New York Times bestselling author, but when he did his smile was dazzling. "You wanted an autograph?"

"Yes, please! If it's not too much trouble?"

"Not at all. It's wonderful to meet a fan." He leaned over and riffled through her pen caddy looking for a sharpie, "Where do you want it?"

She leaned down and, from her handbag at her feet, took a hardcover copy of Heat Rises.

"Ah, you have the latest, I see. Nice choice if I do say so myself."

"It's nice to know the inspiration for Nikki Heat is working on solving Luisa's murder."

"She's the best there is." He agreed, vehemently.

He wrote a witty note and was finishing with a flourish when Beckett retook her seat. He closed the book and passed it back with a wink. The scowl he got from Beckett told him it hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I'm sorry, Professor Lyman, you were speaking about a database?"

"Yes. Mr Davis had contacted several department heads. He mentioned a project he was working on, something to do with cataloguing antiquities, old books, I think there was also some connection to crimes from earlier last century. I'll admit I didn't pay too much more attention. It was outside my area of expertise." She fell quiet for a moment, perhaps remembering, perhaps waiting for reassurance.

Beckett sensed her uncertainty, "I'm not surprised you don't remember all the details. But whatever you do remember would be a big help. When was this?"

"It would have been six months ago. That would have been when he first became involved with Luisa."

"Involved?" Castle asked, surprised.

"No, not like that. Just, Luisa knew a bit about a number of collections that had been stolen. I think her research was helpful to him somehow. I'd seen them together since then, in the library or sometimes across campus. Researching, I suppose."

"And do you know if Luisa made notes about their research?"

"If she did it would have been on her laptop, but..." she paused, "Have you spoken to Professor Anders? Or Luisa's undergrad assistant from last year?"

"No. No we haven't." Beckett sat up straighter. They were closing in.

###

"What did Lanie say?" Castle asked as soon as they were alone in the hallway.

"Bloods are a match. And we can place both Davis and Conti at the lake."

"Nice. I'd say you'll get your confession, Detective."

"Lanie said the boys are waiting on my go ahead to book him."

"And?" he asked, unsure why she was hesitating.

"It just seems so... intellectual?"

"Intellectual?"

"We have a murdered college graduate, a retired accountant, and the link between them a database cataloguing old books." She ticked them off on her fingers as she went. "And then two Italian hitmen in a burning warehouse? It just seems like a leap."

Crossing the courtyard to the car park they continued in silence, both running through and discarding scenarios in their minds. Beckett leaned back against the driver's side door.

"Maybe Davis stumbled on a crime." Castle suggested, angling to face his partner. "A money trail linking a client to the theft of a priceless collection of books. Maybe in the years since his retirement he's followed that lead, uncovering secrets, making enemies."

Focused on her writer, Beckett pushed up off the car door and turned to listen.

"He becomes consumed with the mystery. Finally, through Luisa, he has the proof he needs." Castle continued weaving his tale, "But his safety is threatened..."

"He contracts the Italians for protection." She added, following his line of thought. She took a step closer. "Perhaps they're old clients; they owe him a favour, or he has them over a barrel..."

"And when he finally has the information he needs, when his years of research pay off and he has the final clue he has to silence the one person who knows as much as he does..."

"Luisa." They finished together. Beckett clapped her hands in excitement and smiled her approval. They basked in their victory for a moment, before the detective remembered the court's need for actual proof.

"We need their research. We need to know what they found."

Beckett dug her phone from her pocket and placed a call. Her finger tapped impatiently on the car roof while she waited for it to be answered. "Ryan, have another go at the old hitman. See how far he's willing to go for a deal." She paused for a moment, listening to the detective's question on the other end of the line. "Tell him we know about the research and we want copies." Beckett turned her smile to Castle and he couldn't stop his answering grin if he'd wanted to.

God, she was beautiful when she was chasing a lead.

"We've got him on felony assault and illegal possession so we can keep him overnight and take a run at him in the morning. I don't want to give him a chance to sidestep anything." She barely gave Ryan a chance to answer before she ended the call.

"You want to see if we can track down that other Professor?" Castle suggested.

"Not if he's out in Brooklyn. I'll make a call and see if he can call into the precinct in the morning." Beckett placed her phone, and her hands, into the pockets of her coat. She stood and looked at him, saying nothing, her face a study in expectation. Castle tried frantically to guess their next move.

"The old assistant? "

"It's after nine, Castle. We started at five."

"Oh." She was calling it a day? "Oh! You want to come back for dinner?"

"You already asked." She shook her head slightly, forehead furrowed, as if to say 'you're an idiot!'

"But you didn't say yes."

Beckett ignored him and turned away. The car door unlocked with a beep. Castle hurried around the passenger side and climbed him.

Maybe not saying 'no' was close enough.

###

Martha greeted them at the door with gloved hands raised. Her hair was swept to one side with a cascade of diamonds falling from the exposed ear down to her shoulder. A forest green dress sparkled from under a long white fur coat.

"Richard." She said by way of greeting.

"Good evening, Mother." The words flowed from Castle like honey. He caught one waving hand and pecked a debonair kiss on her knuckles.

She laughed richly and slapped his shoulder. Pulling Beckett in for a hug, Martha dropped a kiss in front of her ear, "Kate, darling, it's wonderful to see you, however briefly."

The laughter was contagious and Beckett chuckled returning the embrace. "You heading out for a night on the town?"

"Hmmm," Martha pretended to consider the question, "Something like that." She said with a wink. "Don't wait up for me you two."

"Never." Castle agreed.

They stood in the foyer and watched Martha exit. The room felt suddenly emptier. Beckett and Castle turned to face each other at the same time, matching grins on their faces.

Beckett mouthed the word "wow". Castle just nodded. They turned as one and Castle headed towards the kitchen. Beckett removed her gun and badge and placed them on the credenza beside the door.

Alexis appeared at the top of the staircase, "Dad! I thought I heard voices. And Kate! Have you come for dinner?" the teenager almost skipped down the stairs.

"Castle bought some of your lasagne into work earlier. It was delicious. Thank you."

"Anytime. I'm glad you liked it." The girl beamed and sidled up to her father for a hug. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

Beckett looked down at her hands and fought the tightening at the back of her throat. There was something charming about being with Castle's family that made her feel surrounded by affection.

"There's plenty more. And I made a salad." Alexis spoke enthusiastically and headed towards the fridge.

"Have you eaten?" Castle asked his daughter. He opened the overhead cabinet and prepared to take down their plates.

"Grams and I ate together earlier. I actually just came down for ice-cream." Alexis carried a large pan in one hand and glass bowl in the other. She slid them both onto the counter, shoving the pan back with her hip, before heading back to the fridge for more.

Castle spun back from the cabinets, plates in hand. He swung them up in the air over his daughter's head and she ducked and opened the fridge again in a smooth dance of chaos.

Beckett moved out of the way and took a seat at the bench to watch them. When it looked like Alexis was preparing to serve them their dinner Castle neatly replaced the chef's knife she held with an ice-cream scoop instead and hip-checked her towards the bowl he'd gotten for her.

"You don't need to wait on us, daughter-of-mine."

"I know, Dad," Alexis ducked her head, embarrassed, "I'd like to. Kate hasn't been over for dinner since..." she paused, remembering her anger and fear when her world teetered on the edge of crumbling outside the New Amsterdam Bank, and the way she blamed the one person who would have understood how she felt. "We haven't seen each other much recently." She said, instead.

"I'm sorry, Alexis." Kate left her stool and stepped around the bar to stand closer to the young woman, "I haven't meant to be absent. We've had a few cases that have kept us busy." Her eyes flicked to Castle for support but, although his gaze was intent on her when she glanced up he looked away immediately, leaving her to fend for herself. "I know you've had a lot going on too. I should have thought to call."

Alexis bestowed a smile on the older woman that would have melted a heart far tougher than Kate Beckett's, and she made a note to call her when they closed their current case and see if she wanted to meet for coffee.

Castle busied himself arranging far-too-large portions of salad and lasagne on their plates. Alexis filled her bowl to overflowing with choc-chip ice-cream. Needing something to do Beckett took down two wine glasses and found the bottle opener in the top drawer.

"There's a 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon on the top of the wine rack, silver and black label, if you want to grab it."

Beckett stepped passed the partition into the wine store and, finding the bottle easily, bought it back to the kitchen. Alexis was putting the last of the food back in the fridge and Castle had their plates and cutlery arranged either side of the bench. Picking up her bowl of ice-cream Alexis hesitated for a moment before she started to head out of the room.

"You're not joining us?" Beckett asked.

"I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. Your Dad mentioned you met someone last week. I'd love to hear about him."

It was all the incentive she needed and Alexis came around the back of the bar and pulled up a chair next to Kate leaving Castle to sit on the other side opposite them both.

"John Danton Farnsworth." She paused and tilted her head, "The Third." She added with a grin. "He's very sweet."

"Oh my God. Do I need to hear this?" Castle groused.

"Shush, Castle." Beckett swatted his arm and then picked up her fork, turning her full attention to his daughter.

###

It was almost eleven by the time the trio cleared their plates and stacked the dishwasher.

"I'm going to head up to bed." Alexis said with a hint of regret.

"Okay, pumpkin. Are you up early tomorrow?"

"I'm meeting Sonia at ten, so not too early." She placed her hand on his shoulder and stood on tippy toes.

"I'll see you for breakfast then." He stooped down and let her peck his cheek goodnight.

Alexis seemed to take a half step towards Kate before stopping. Beckett sensed her uncertainty and reached out placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll see you again soon."

Emboldened, the young woman rested her hand on Beckett's forearm and, mirroring her actions with her father raised up to place a feather-light kiss on her cheek.

"Goodnight, Alexis."

She made it part way up the stairs before she turned back to look down on the adults in the kitchen. "I was thinking of making meatballs on Thursday night, if you wanted to come over again."

"I don't want to outstay my welcome." Beckett said slowly.

Alexis looked to her father and glared at him.

"You know you're always welcome, Kate." Castle replied, earning a nod from his daughter.

Beckett laughed, "Maybe sometime next week." She allowed, seeking a compromise between her desire to join them again and her fear at letting herself get too comfortable.

She waited until she heard the door closing at the top of the stairs before she turned to lean her back against the kitchen counter and faced her partner. "I know why you seek out your family after a tough case." She revealed in a whisper.

"Kind of fills the tank, doesn't it?" he agreed quietly. Wrapping his fingers around the stems of their wine glasses he raised the still half-full bottle of wine in front of his chest.

"Join me on the couch?" his voice was still pitched low and the request sounded like all kinds of wonderful.

Beckett watched Castle's eyes widen slightly and laughed.

"I mean, join me in sharing another glass of wine somewhere that isn't the kitchen and might involve sitting on a couch." He explained, not really helping.

"It's not that your offer, tangled although it may be, doesn't sound wonderful. But it's getting late, Castle. And I have to drive."

Castle studied her expression for moment. "Tony will be working tonight waiting on Mother. If it gets too late I'll have him swing past and take you home."

She remained silent for a moment, considering. "I sometimes forget the perks that come with being a famous author."

"Are the perks a bad thing?"

"No. They're not. Just... hard to get used to." Beckett's fingers plucked at the hem of her shirt. Her fingernail caught on a barely visible hole, courtesy of a stray ember from the warehouse, and she toyed with it while her mind ran in circles. "And if I leave the car here and we get another body overnight?"

"You'd call me anyway. I could just pick you up," Castle waited, sensing her indecision. "And then hand you the keys so you could drive."

She laughed and walked past him without another word. He followed her with his eyes and, when she slipped her shoes off and headed towards the lounge, he forced the rest of his body to follow too.


	3. Chapter 3

Keep Showing Up- Chapter 3

* * *

><p>She'd claimed one corner of the couch, her back pressed into the curve of the cushions, knees bent, legs tucked under. Relaxed.<p>

Castle placed both wine glasses in the centre of the coffee table and filled them both. There was only enough for a half glass each left in the bottle when he sat it down. He made a note to sip slowly.

"Did you want some music on?" he asked, passing one glass to her.

"No. I'm fine." She was enjoying the silence and the conversation. But when Castle settled himself into the opposite corner and turned to face her she felt the stillness in the depths of her belly.

She looked away and studied the deep red of her wine. Taking a slow sip she kept the glass touching her lip as she swallowed. She took a slow breath and tilted the glass back for a larger mouthful. She felt Castle's eyes on her and fought the urge to run. Or to stop running. She couldn't decide which.

"So, what time was Professor Anders able to make it in tomorrow?" Castle asked eventually, breaking the tension.

"He said eight o'clock. Ryan spoke to him. Said he seemed eager to help." Kate took the offered distraction and ran with it before realising she didn't want to talk about work. With barely a break she changed the conversation. "I was thinking I'd call Alexis this weekend and meet up for lunch. If you thought that was okay?"

Castle's face softened and his eyes shone. "More than okay. She'd love that."

"So would I. She's grown into a remarkable young woman."

"I wish I could take credit for that."

"I think that's one area where you, quite rightly, deserve the praise. You're a great father, Castle." Kate kept her eyes focused on her glass as she swirled the wine tipping the glass so it came almost right to the rim.

A thousand responses flittered through Castle's mind and he let them all go, unwilling to chance choosing the wrong one. He let the quiet settle between them once again, calmer this time.

"I'm a good way through the next Nikki Heat book." He told her after a pause. They'd never spoken about a fourth book.

"Are you? I didn't think you'd have had a lot of time to write lately."

"Sometimes I can't _not_ write."

She smiled at that; the image of Richard Castle in a fever pitch of inspiration. Until her mind tripped over the source of his inspiration and she blushed. "What are they up to?"

"Hmmm. I think I'll have to wait until it's finished before I share. I think you'll like it though."

"I like everything you write."

Castle couldn't help but lean forward. He'd suspected, but she'd never admitted, with complete candour, to actually liking his books. "Why, Detective Beckett, is that a compliment?"

She groaned and shot a glare in his direction pretending to be annoyed. He just laughed. She took a healthy swallow of wine to give her mouth something to do.

"This weekend would actually work out perfectly if you did have time to see Alexis." Castle changed the topic of conversation again. "There's a good chance I'll be out of town, just for a couple of nights. Mother is in and out, but," he rolled his eyes, "It would be nice to know there was someone else around for her."

"Of course," Beckett agreed immediately, wanting to ask where he was going but unwilling to cross that line.

"Patterson is doing a promo for his children's reading program in Miami and I've agreed to help sponsor it. It's just a publicity thing. It's on Sunday, but we'd planned another dinner on Monday night that I was going to stay for. I could easily cancel and be back for work before lunch."

"No, Castle. It sounds important. I know the program and it's great. There's no reason why you shouldn't stay for it; the boys and I are fine."

"I know you're fine. I just didn't want to..."

He looked genuinely troubled and Beckett forced herself to hold his gaze. "I know you'll come in as soon as you get back. The precinct isn't your only responsibility."

"Maybe not, but it's one of the most important."

"Will there be any other famous authors at this launch?" her tone teasing.

"I may have heard a rumour about Kenneth Oppel."

"Really? I loved Silverwing." Beckett replied, excited now. "Doesn't he have a new series out? Think you could get me an autograph?"

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you having anybody else's signed first editions on your shelves."

"Then you better not look too closely at my shelves."

The glint in her eyes seemed to dare him and Castle marvelled at this new relaxed version of Kate Beckett that she allowed him to see more often recently. With a small sigh she leaned forward to place her glass on the table, and Castle realised for the first time that his was empty too.

"Could you call Tony for me? I really need to get home and shower."

The raised eyebrow was predictable but he reached for his phone without comment.

"Can I use the bathroom before I go?"

"Of course; use mine so you don't disturb Alexis." He indicated with a nod of his head towards his study.

Beckett walked through his office and into his bedroom. She didn't pause as she crossed the threshold and kept her eyes on the door that opened off to one side into his ensuite. She couldn't deny a brief flash of longing at the sight of his tub. She could well and truly imagine sinking up to her neck in bubbles and losing herself in one of his books. The room even smelt like Castle. She washed her hands quickly and paused to look at her image in the mirror. Apart from a mad dash into the bathroom before she and Esposito interrogated Davis, and the equally quick splashing of water over her face to clean off the grime when they first got back to the precinct, she hadn't been near a mirror to study herself since being dragged around the floor at lunchtime. She turned to look at the back of her blouse... and at the line of frayed fabric and smattering of ash marks.

She groaned out loud.

Castle had finished on the phone, and their glasses had both been topped up with the last inch of wine when she made her way back to the lounge. He sat on the central cushion, leaning forward, and elbows resting on his knees.

"You could have told me I looked like a mess," she said as soon as she closed the office door.

"What do you mean?"

Beckett turned and showed him the back of her blouse.

"I told you earlier it was ruined," he laughed, "Haven't you looked in a mirror since lunchtime?"

She shrugged, "Not really."

"How on earth do you manage to look the way you do if you don't even bother looking in a mirror?" he asked. There was no hint of flirtation in his voice; just honest bewilderment.

She flopped back down on the couch, ignoring the comment, and collected her wine glass. "Is Tony free?" she checked before drinking any more.

"He'll be here in ten minutes, and he has his brother with him who will drive the station car back to your apartment for you."

"Castle," she sighed, self-conscious about the effort he'd made, "I really appreciate it."

"He offered. It's fine." Castle finished the last of his drink and placed the empty glass on the table. There was still a good six inches between them when he sat back. He glanced down at Beckett's sock-clad feet, up to the night-lit windows, over towards the front door, the door to his office; a constant shifting that took him everywhere but to Beckett's face. She appreciated the effort and swallowed her wine in a single too-large gulp. She coughed when the wine burned down her throat. Not the best way to finish what was probably a rather expensive red.

"Will you be in for in the interview with Anders?" she asked, standing up.

"Bright and early, Detective." He stood with her, "I'll walk you down."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I'll say a quick hello to the guys."

Beckett busied herself putting on her boots and finding her coat. She checked the pockets for her keys and collected her badge and gun. She hated the awkwardness of saying goodbye. It should be as simple as a wave and a cheery 'goodnight', but leaving Castle's loft was always harder than leaving after work, as if the hours in between were heavier having left his home.

Castle was waiting by the door and held it open at her approach. Neither spoke as they waited for the elevator. Once they were safely ensconced inside and the doors firmly closed Beckett broke the silence.

"Tonight was nice, Castle." It wasn't quite what she wished she could say to him.

He was quiet for several heartbeats, weighing his response, "It was. You should come again; Thursday or next week."

"I'll let you know. I'll let Alexis know just in case she plans to cook."

The elevator coasted to a stop and the door opened onto the well-lit marble floored foyer of Castle's apartment. Eduardo stood, ever present, just outside the double glass door and he opened them at their approach.

"Good evening, Mr Castle, Detective Beckett."

"Hi, Eduardo. Nice night out here."

"It has been, sir."

"Have you seen Tony?"

The doorman inclined his head to indicate behind Castle, "He's just pulling up now."

"Ah, perfect timing." He placed a hand at the small of Beckett's back and ushered her forward, "Your chariot awaits." He walked her to the kerb and held out his hand.

Beckett looked his outstretched hand and hesitated.

"Your car keys," Castle explained, "I'll give the driver your address and have him park it. If he can't get a spot out front I'll let you know where to find it."

Beckett handed over the keys and smiled when Castle trapped her hand between both of his, sliding the keys out of her grasp but holding on long enough to lean in and place a chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Over the beat of her heart she heard the door to the town car open behind her. Shaking her head with an amused smile she said, "Good night, Castle," and stepped away.

Castle nodded once but didn't speak. He waited until the car had pulled into traffic before turning to make arrangements to get her vehicle home.

###

It was a quarter to eight when Castle stepped into Homicide the next morning. Beckett's eyes lit up and Castle took a moment to pretend it was at seeing him rather than the double shot vanilla latte he carried.

"Castle, you're a lifesaver," she said, reaching eagerly for her cup.

"Good morning to you too, Detective." He sidestepped and put the takeaway tray outside her reach.

Beckett didn't shy away at his reprimand, instead she half-stood from her chair and grabbed his jacket. "Yeah, yeah. Hand it over, Castle."

"Feisty this morning. I like it," he deadpanned, and offered the coffee again. He dropped a pastry bag on the corner of her desk and took his customary seat at her side. "What time did you get in?"

Beckett took a couple of large mouthfuls of coffee before answering. "About six, I think. Had a few things in Davis' financials I wanted to chase down first."

Castle raised his eyebrow. "It was well after midnight when you left. Couldn't sleep?"

"I slept just fine, Castle. But I woke up. Had things I wanted to look into."

"You should have called."

"It's paperwork, Castle," as if that explained everything.

"Hmm, good point." He looked over at the murder board to see if there were anything new, "You find anything?"

"Recent bank transfers to connect Davis to both Conti and Santoro, and a link between them and a company that Davis did contract work for over the span of a decade before his retirement."

"What company?"

"A chain of video stores. Nothing suspicious. They closed down nine years ago."

"Same time Davis retired?"

"Yeah, but could just be a co-incidence."

Castle grunted his opinion, and nudged the pastry bag closer. Beckett took the hint and fished around inside finally deciding on a croissant. Castle grabbed a muffin and leant back to continue studying the board.

"Davis' alibi fell apart?"

"Yeah. Staff say he was there and ordered coffee but no one remembers seeing him at a table. Diner was quiet that early and the manager was positive she'd have remembered him if he'd spent an hour reading the paper."

Crumbs were swept away and coffee cups drained before either of them spoke again.

"Ryan and Esposito get anything from Santoro about the research they were working on?"

"They're heading to the hospital on their way in."

A uniform approached Beckett's desk to inform them they had a guest, and the partners looked behind him to where a forties-something man in a brown jacket and jeans stood waiting.

"Thanks, Collins." Beckett was already pushing up from her desk as she spoke. She grabbed the file that sat by itself at her elbow and headed towards the corridor to greet him. "Hi, Professor Anders, I'm Detective Beckett. Thanks for coming in this morning." She shook hands with him and introduced Castle, ushering both men into the break room.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Professor?" Castle asked, playing host while Beckett offered a chair around the large central table.

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

Beckett waited until everyone was seated before she began, "We spoke with Professor Lyman last night in relation to the work that Luisa Baker was doing with Milton Davis. She indicated that you might know more about the nature of their work."

"I suppose I do, um..." the Professor looked around the room briefly, his eyes unfocused, as if organising his thoughts, "Milton Davis approached the University some time last year, ah, and not just our University; I think he was also in contact with the New York library at that point. I had two meetings with him, a few phone calls, we didn't get into specifics."

"What was he looking for?" the Detective asked.

"Books."

"Books?" Castle leaned forward.

"Old books."

"Old books?" Castle echoed again.

Beckett frowned, effectively silencing her partner. "Just old books in general, or something more specific?"

"First Edition books that were listed as stolen during the 1920's and 1940's. That's where I was helping him. He had a list. But when I saw how his interests corresponded to Luisa's graduate thesis from the previous year I put him them in touch with each other. Something I now regret, obviously." He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands for a moment.

"What was Luisa's thesis on?"

"The nature of propaganda during periods of armed conflict." The college professor replied candidly.

Beckett exchanged a sideways look with Castle, both checking to see if that new angle gave him any immediate ideas and to say 'heavy stuff'. Castle shrugged and the slight wrinkling of his forehead told her he didn't immediately know what to do with the new information.

"Would you happen to remember what was on his list?"

"I could find out. But I know from talking to Luisa recently that their work had taken them beyond that initial list."

"In what way?" Beckett asked patiently, accustomed to the slow process of drawing out the information they needed to solve any case.

"I'm not sure. I only know that she was excited about it, and had plans to write a paper on what they'd found. She didn't come right out with it but I got the impression she thought she had something she could publish."

"She was writing a book?" Castle interrupted again.

"No, an academic paper as part of her doctorate."

"We've not been able to locate her laptop. Do you have any idea if she might have had hardcopies of her research, a draft perhaps?"

"If it wasn't at her apartment or her office then not that I would be aware of. Since completing her graduate thesis I haven't had reason to be more directly involved in her work." Anders went still for a moment and Beckett recognised it as a sign that he'd thought of something, "Actually, since starting on her doctorate I hadn't seen Luisa anywhere near as frequently. She'd taken to doing a lot of her work off-campus."

"Do you know where?"

"No. Have you spoken to her room-mate?"

"We have. She wasn't even aware that Luisa was working on anything specific at the University. She'd stopped discussing her work six months ago."

Anders nodded, unsurprised, and sat waiting for another question.

Running rapidly through the untethered threads of the case in her mind Beckett tried to find another angle. Not having anything immediate she opened the file she carried and slid two photographs towards him. "Do either of these men look familiar to you at all?"

He leaned forward and studied the DMV photos of Conti and Santoro. "No, I don't think so."

"Okay. Thanks for coming in, Professor." Beckett replaced the photos and stood up. The two men in the room followed suit. "If you think of anything else in relation to Luisa's work could you please contact me?" she handed him a card and offered her thanks once more.

Anders was halfway out the door when he stopped and turned back, "Come to think of it, three months ago, maybe four, Luisa had a fight with one of the students she tutored; a young woman that was here on a student exchange visa. The fight was about her research, I heard them yelling about the morality of it, I'm not sure what she meant by that."

"Do you remember the student's name?"

"No, she wasn't in any of my classes and she left the campus not long after that. Professor Lyman would know though, I could ask."

"Could you have her call us once you speak with her?"

"I will."

Beckett leaned against the wall and watched him leave. Castle waited for her to share her impressions. She was frustratingly quiet for too long.

"An accountant, two Italian hit men well past their prime and a thesis on propaganda during wartime conflict... Is it just me or are you not seeing a connection here."

"We need to find out what Davis wanted destroyed in that warehouse. Time to get something out of the boys in tech."

###

The slight vibration of his phone against the desk was a much needed distraction and Castle dropped the green highlighter and almost pounced on the device. Swipping his thumb to unlock the screen he was surprised to see Esposito's name appear in the text box.

He flicked a glance over his shoulder at the detective in question; head down, highlighter in hand, he looked engrossed in his task. Castle tapped the screen to bring up the message-

**Bro, U gotta make her stop! I'm seeing double. We need food. **

Castle's eyes turned to Beckett on their own accord and he winced and looked back at his phone the minute he realised his mistake.

**I've already tried! She's on a mission.**

He hit send and focused his willpower on not turning around to witness the reaction to his message. A low growl rumbled from somewhere across the bullpen. Castle sank lower in his seat and picked up his highlighter again. He rubbed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the list of books that Professor Anders had provided them. So far they'd spent four hours combing through documents recovered from the warehouse, cross-referencing insurance reports of book thefts and Davis' clients, and printouts of the books and papers that Luisa had checked out over the last six from both the New York library and the University. The highlight for Castle had been speed-reading her graduate thesis. He almost fell asleep just thinking about it.

His phone vibrated again and this time Beckett did look up. He ignored the text for a full minute and kept working. He heard Ryan clear his throat, loudly, behind him. He was so impatient.

Placing his pen down slowly he picked up his phone. The text was from Ryan this time.

**We're serious. Just go! Pick something up. I want a chicken salad.**

Castle frowned. Ryan had had it easy! He'd spent the morning searching for the missing student seen arguing with Luisa; an exchange student from Austria who apparently left the university, and New York, three months ago and whose family hasn't heard from her since. It involved computer searches with not a highlighted phrase amongst it.

**Why don't you go?**

A slight creaking of chair wheels and a snort later and Castle had his answer.

**Are you crazy? **

Castle sat for a moment, gathering his courage. He stretched his legs. Worked a kink out of his neck.

"Will you stop fidgeting?"

"Sorry." He replied on reflex. "Actually, I'm gonna run to the little boy's room." He stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket with one hand and tried to surreptitiously grab his coat from the back of his chair with the other.

"You're taking your coat to the bathroom?"

"Ahhhh?"

"Just go, Castle. Bring me back a turkey club."

"You got it." He took two long strides and, as soon as he'd disappeared behind the murder board, he spun on his heels and gave a double-thumbs-up to Ryan and Esposito before quickly making his escape.

The boys shared a victory fist-bump before Beckett interrupted their moment.

"Please tell me you've got something!"

"Not really. I'm still trying to track down the exchange student. She never finished her program but it doesn't look like a missing persons report was ever lodged although her family has put in several calls to the university looking for her over the last seven weeks. I'm trying to link her further to Luisa."

"Okay. Keep at it." Beckett sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Espo?"

"Nadda. Closest I've come is a..." he flicked through his bundle of paperwork quickly, "a Lionel Hans who was a client of Davis' for twenty years and who is also listed as having donated a collection of books to the Hungarian Government in 1989. A good tax write-off if you're looking for one," he added with a nod, "I'm running down searches on that in all sorts of places but nothing's come back yet."

"Ergh. We've _got_ to be looking in the right place," Beckett complained. "But I'm drawing blanks here too." She dropped her stapled copy of paperwork on her desk and linked her hands behind her head to stretch out her back and shoulders.

"You heard from Lanie?" she asked Esposito.

He frowned a little but shook his head, no.

"Okay, keep at it 'til Castle gets back and we'll take a break."

###

The team sat arrayed around the break-room table. Sandwiches, salads and sodas intermingled with printouts and paperwork.

Esposito scrunched his sandwich wrap up into a neat ball and shot it across the table and neatly into the bin. "I don't know where else I can take these," Hh indicated his bundle of documents. "How's about me and Ryan head back out and speak to Luisa's family again. See if we can work this from another angle?"

"Yeah, sounds good. Castle and I will-"

Detective Tolliver poked his head around the door and interrupted. "Detective Beckett, you've got a call on line three."

She flashed him a smile in thanks and hurried back to her desk. She was back at the break room door before the rest of the team had even had a chance to clean up. "CSU found a body at the warehouse."

The three men left the piles of food and useless paperwork on the table and rushed out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 4<p>

Walking into the warehouse Beckett quickly found the uniform on duty. He handed a pair of latex gloves to them both and Beckett tugged hers on while they spoke. Castle stepped further into the warehouse and looked around at the changes that had occurred overnight. Yellow markers lay scattered over the ground marking shell casings but very little else had changed. Except of course for the greater police presence and well-dressed medical examiner.

Lanie looked up and let a tilt of her head say 'hello'. Castle decided to see what they'd found. Three large barrels stood side-by-side against the raw brick wall. All three had their lids removed and placed on the floor in front. A black plastic tarp lay spread at the base of the far barrel, and on that was an open body bag. Not yet close enough, Castle could see only a glimpse of the figure inside.

The click of heels told him Beckett had finished talking and he waited for her to precede him. She shot him a questioning glance as she walked past, and Castle looked around, confused. Was there something he was supposed to be doing?

He hurried to catch up and was at her side by the time she spoke, "What'd they find?"

"She's not a fresh one. I'd say she's been here for at least a couple of months. The barrel was full of some kind of oil– old deep-fryer oil if I had to guess– so she's been preserved fairly well."

"Hmmm, like a McNugget, they last for_ years_."

The two women ignored the comment.

"Cause of death?"

Lanie pushed the corner of the body bag back further. Beckett and Castle both leaned over to get a closer look. "Gunshot wound to the top of the head," she pointed with her pen, "and another to the stomach."

Beckett took a moment to study the woman's face. Her skin was bloated and mottled grey and yellow and it was impossible to guess her age. Her clothing was stylish though; her ear-rings were broad gold bands that stood out, gleaming, against her jaw.

"How old do you think she is?" she asked.

Lanie sighed before she asked, "Early to mid twenties. Hard to say for sure. I'll have a much better estimate for you as soon as I get her back to the lab."

"No ID anywhere?"

"The techs are going to drain the barrel for us but they want samples for trace first."

Hearing Ryan and Esposito approach Beckett turned and asked, "Hey, Esposito, you see a photo of that exchange student at all?"

"Yeah, why? That her?"

"You tell me."

Esposito stepped forward and leaned over the body. Lanie held the bag open for him.

"Could be. Same hair colour. Looks to be the right height. But..."

"Yeah. I know." She agreed.

"You have someone in mind?" Lanie asked.

"We'll get her details down to you. Might speed up your ID."

"The other barrels were empty?" Castle asked, all traces of humour gone

"Yeah. They'll print them all. The usual. See what they get."

"Okay. Thanks, Lanie. Hopefully we can connect this directly to Luisa's death. You'll call?"

"Of course."

The three detectives and one writer walked as a group to the roller door. As one they all stopped and formed a loose circle, waiting for orders.

"You two head to the family like you planned. I want to have another poke around here for a minute and then Castle and I will head back to the University and find out more about that argument Anders witnessed."

"Right, boss." The boys agreed.

"Ryan, can you call the precinct and have someone get that info down to the ME's office?"

"On to it." Ryan confirmed, pulling out his phone.

Without another word the two partners separated.

###

The three phone calls all came in within minutes of each other. A smug Esposito managed to call first.

"Yo, Beckett, I just heard back from Dudley and Dudley, appraisers that had looked at a collection of documents for one of Davis' clients about ten years ago. Turns out one of the documents had been altered from the original. They remembered it because the same guy had some furniture that's on display in the Met or something,"

"Yeah, Javi, get on with it."

"I'm getting there! Anyway," he drew the word out, making her wait, "they suspected another appraiser, one that had apparently been given that document previously, of altering it. He was never prosecuted but their accusations must have held some kind of weight 'cause they had the guy's credentials taken away. But they said the owner always blamed Davis for it. They tried to make an insurance claim over damages. It didn't go anywhere but they did have a few other names of similarly suspicious and unhappy clients. "

"Anyone we know?"

"You want to ask about the other appraiser first," Esposito prompted.

"Just tell me," Beckett insisted instead.

"Lionel Hans." He finished with a flourish.

He was met by silence, "The guy who gave his books to the Hungarian Government," He added.

"So –"Beckett started, only to pause to order her thoughts, "At least two clients of Davis' suspected him of being somehow connected to a document appraiser, Hans, who was altering documents and selling them. Maybe Luisa found out? Did you get any leads on Hans?"

"We're on our way back in now. We'll run him through the system."

"Great." Beckett hadn't even ended the call on her cell when her desk phone started ringing. She put her cell on the desk and, ignoring Castle's questioning look, answered with a direct "Beckett."

After a moment she mouthed the words, "Professor Anders" at Castle before grabbing a pen and scribbling down notes. Castle leaned over her shoulder to see what she was writing. He'd just managed to make out an address on the upper West side when Beckett's cell phone rang again. Lanie's name appeared on screen and Castle held it up for Beckett to see. She nodded her permission and Castle sat back in his seat to take the call.

"Hey, Lanie."

"Writer-Boy. You answering her phone now?"

"Detective Beckett is otherwise engaged at the present time." Somehow the detective in question was able to continue taking notes while rolling her eyes at her partner.

"Is she now? She better make herself unengaged. I got something you'll want to see."

"You ID the girl?"

"Even better."

Castle got Beckett's attention and, pointing to the phone at his ear, he gave her a thumbs-up.

###

Beyond filling him in on the details of Esposito's and Professor Ander's calls the two crime fighters were mostly silent on their way to the morgue. They used the quiet to re-arrange the clues and try to slot the pieces of the puzzle together. Castle saw the tight grip of her knuckles on the steering wheel and recognised the pulsing vein at her forehead. She wasn't ready to run theory and an interruption to her train of thought now would be met with annoyance at best. He reminded himself not to stare and tried to do his own thinking looking out the window instead of gawking at his muse.

Ten minutes later Beckett pressed the door to the morgue open and stood to one side. Castle barrelled through and it took him a moment to realise his partner had remained at the door a moment longer than necessary. Sure, they were walking into the morgue, but Lanie could be dangerous. He glanced at her and the way she avoided his eyes and the tension at the corners of her mouth were evidence that she was fighting a smile. She'd let him go first.

The M.E. interrupted his epiphany, "Ballistics came back on the bullet that killed Luisa Baker."

"Davis?" she asked, hopeful.

"No."

"Really?" Both Castle and Beckett spoke at the same time.

"But it _was_ a match to the pistol recovered with the bodyguard you took care of."

"Conti." Beckett clarified.

"Mmhmm," Lanie confirmed, and pointed to the body on her slab. She'd been cleaned up but the state of decay still made the young woman difficult to look at. "We ID'ed her from the records Javi sent down; Astrid Metternich. She had a metro card in her pocket so you might want to call and see how they're going getting info off of that.

The three arranged themselves around the body taking a moment to acknowledge the loss and to promise justice. Beckett forced her mind away from the phone call she'd have to make to the girl's family once they got back to the precinct and concentrated on reading the pattern of injuries and the story they told.

"She was shot by two different weapons." Castle noted, "Conti's Berretta." He indicated the head shot, "But this one looks a little messier." He studied the bullet hole inches from the victim's belly button. "The Colt Python?"

"Give the man a prize. She was shot in the stomach first, positive match to Davis' revolver."

"Painful." Beckett mumbled.

"Very. Given enough time that shot would have been fatal. But Conti finished the job with the shot to the top of the head. Close range."

"Thanks, Lanie," Beckett moved to head towards the door.

Lanie waited until Castle was halfway out of the morgue before she caught her friend's arm and pulled her aside, "So, Castle tells me he had you 'otherwise engaged' earlier today," her eyebrow wiggle was suggestive enough to have Beckett's mind in the gutter with Lanie's in an instant. "Anything you want to share?"

Beckett smiled a secretive smile and untangled her arm. She pushed through the doors without a word.

A lyrical, "You know you're gonna tell me, girl!" followed her out.

###

Ryan and Esposito stepped into the observation room to join their Captain just as Beckett and Castle took their seats across from Milton Davis and his lawyer. No one spoke. They couldn't see Beckett's face but they knew from experience the steely gaze that their suspect was faced with.

The lawyer, a young man with a fashionable five o'clock shadow shaped to follow his jaw line, looked only minutes out of law school. He shifted in his seat. It didn't look like he'd handled a murder charge before. Or perhaps he'd just never had to handle anyone like Detective Beckett.

A folder was placed on the table between them. She flipped it open. All eyes moved to see what it held. Two photographs were pressed closer to Davis and the unsettled lawyer.

"She's got him." Gates said unnecessarily. They all saw the flash of recognition in Davis' eyes and the slight slump to his shoulders. The bravado he'd showed the day before when confronted with Luisa's death had left him; he couldn't walk away from this offense so easily.

"What happened, Mr Davis?"

Everyone was motionless as they listened to Detective Beckett extract the truth from Milton Davis; the way he'd stumbled onto a series of frauds, an appraiser who acquired documents; ledgers, books, court transactions– all relating to refugees from the Austro-Hungarian Empire almost a century ago– and altered them. Changing history; and then selling or donating them back to private collectors and institutes in Hungary.

"I had evidence against Lionel and I told him I'd take it to the police if he didn't cut me in. Meeting Luisa had seemed like kismet with her knowledge of wartime conflicts and the political temperament at the time. It was exactly what I had been missing to really get a slice of Lionel's venture." The words tumbled from him now that they'd been given release.

"She'd seemed eager to help. She volunteered the names of contacts that would be so enamoured with the false information we had that they'd be willing to pay all kinds of money," he sighed and shook his head as if confused by the actions of the woman, "Only she'd lied. She tried to play me."

He met Detective Beckett's eyes, as if wanting her to appreciate the pain of his betrayal, "She got details of our past business dealings and set out expose us. But she planned to use the information in her doctorate paper first. When that exchange student turned up, yelling and threatening, Luisa said it was_ her_ that was going to betray us and ruin everything! She_ told_ us to stop her!" he looked genuinely remorseful. "And then I discovered the truth. I didn't mean for anything to happen, I was just so mad."

He looked now to his lawyer for support, "I'd just been selling papers. Nobody would ever have gotten hurt if she hadn't interfered."

The weight of his confession settled over everyone in the room.

"Contact the DA and get a warrant for Lionel Hans' home and office," Gates ordered. "Let's wrap this one up."

###

Castle waited until Davis, flanked by two officers of the law, was ushered out of Homicide before he reached under his chair and took something out of a black and gold shopping bag. He dropped a tissue-paper wrapped parcel on the desk in front of his partner and then stretched, unceremoniously, in his chair.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Just a replacement."

"For...?"

"Open it and see." His knee bounced up and down as he spoke.

Beckett glanced briefly around the bullpen, noting that Ryan and Esposito both had their heads buried in paperwork tidying up their case, and turned back to the parcel.

"I've never seen anyone so afraid at the merest suggestion of a gift."

"Castle." Her voice was a warning.

"It's not a gift. It's a replacement." He sat forward and threatened to undo the string himself. "Just open it already."

"If it's not a gift then why are you so jumpy about me opening it?"

"Beckett." He growled her name in a strangled plea. She found that she liked the way it sounded.

Tugging on the string Beckett untied the bundle and then unfolded the tissue paper. It was a pale mauve blouse; tiny pearl buttons, wide collar, three-quarter sleeves. It was reminiscent of the blouse she'd worn yesterday, but this one was silk, had a slightly lower neckline and, holding it up to see it better, she noticed it was tailored better; angling in at the waist but flaring at the hip; plenty of room for her gun.

Her stomach flipped and she fought her instinct to refuse the gift. Looking over at her partner she knew he could read the confusion, and the gratitude, in her expression. She wondered if he read other things, too.

"It's beautiful, thank you," she said quietly. The man knew how to shop.

"You're welcome." The warmth of his gaze held her, mesmerized for a moment by the way he made her feel; cherished. It was intoxicating. "It gave me a legitimate reason to picture, in detail, the exact shape and curve of your body." His eyes flowed over her, and the spell was broken.

"How'd you find the time to go shopping for this?" she asked, ignoring the innuendo and folding the blouse back inside the paper. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, feeling self-conscious.

"I didn't really have to. It came out as part of Bergdorf Goodman's spring line. I just called to make sure they had them in stock."

"How do you even know what's in Bergdorf Goodman's spring line?"

"I know, right. It's just scary how much I have stored up here." He tapped his head to make his point before picking up his phone and, getting comfortable, clicked his Angry Birds app ready to settle in for a long 'i' dotting, 't' crossing wait.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- i'm loving the story alerts etc, but i'm happy to shamelessly ask for reviews. Would be good to know how it's playing out in regards to episode-style crime fic/ character dev/ Caskett etc. Plus reviews are just darn nice ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- another thanks to Madsthenerdygirl for trudging through the drafts for this.

* * *

><p>Keep Showing Up<br>Chapter 5

Castle stepped off the elevator and went immediately to the chairs that lined the side wall. He sat the two coffees he held on the seat and removed his coat before giving it a good shake to get the worst of the rain off. Draping it over his arm he picked up the coffees again and continued along the corridor.

He'd woken to sunshine but sometime in the last hour the skies had opened. The short walk from Beckett's favourite cafe to the precinct had left him soaked. He took a sip of his coffee to warm up.

A chorus of "Yo, my man," and "hey, Castle!" from the boys greeted him. "Didn't think we'd see you today, bro." Esposito added.

"Gotta keep showing up in case Gates changes the locks."

"Good plan," Ryan approved.

Beckett wasn't at her desk so he took a seat in his customary chair and admired the blank murder board. It looked good.

"I think she's in the file room." Ryan said helpfully after a moment. Castle had wanted to ask but hadn't wanted to seem too needy.

He spun his chair around to face the boys. "No biggy. Hey, did you see the photos on page six this morning?" he bit his knuckle and closed his eyes, "Blonde, black bikini, b-"

"Perfect timing," Beckett's voice had him turning around immediately, "now you're here you can sort this out."

"What is it?" he held his hand up in a 'later' wave to the boys and slid his chair towards her. He took the piece of paper she held out to him.

"A bill."

"For?" he looked at the itemised sheet, 'Oh,' He laughed loudly. "I can explain."

"Twenty seven calls? Seriously?"

"It was for research."

"You had to make them from my desk phone?" Beckett walked around to sit beside him and took the coffee he'd bought her.

"I couldn't use my iPhone, I needed it to record my notes."

"I have no idea what the guys in accounts thought when they saw that."

"What, Detective Kate Beckett can't dial herself a Goddess?"

She favoured him with an amused look. Her eyes caught on the fine speckling of moisture that formed a V at his chest and the drops that clung to his hair. "Are you wet?"

"What?"

"Your hair, your shirt," she gestured, "You look wet."

"It's raining out."

"Since when?"

"Since the minute I stepped out of the cab to get your coffee."

Kate looked disappointed.

"Why? Did you have plans?"

"No, not really. It's just looking like one of those quiet days where everyone goes a little insane in here. I was going to take a walk at lunch."

"Oh, that'd be nice. Maybe it'll ease up and we can go anyway."

"We?"

"Or I could stay up here and make a few calls."

"Yeah, right," she smiled to spite herself, "Are you hanging out with us today?"

"Not for long. I'll probably head over to the Old Haunt later and catch up on some stock orders if you don't need me around, or it wouldn't hurt to tap out another chapter. Nikki needs Rook's help with something and I hate to leave her hanging."

"Considerate of you."

"I really just dropped in to bring you your coffee," His voice had dropped so his comment was audible only to her.

Beckett's belly fluttered ridiculously. Damn him.

"And to remind you that Alexis would love to see you tonight if you're free."

The fluttering picked up in intensity and Beckett cursed herself for being so easily effected by him lately. Dinner twice in the one week wasn't a good idea, no matter how much she knew she'd enjoy it. "Can I call her later? I'm just not sure if I'll –"

Rick cut her off, saving her from a lie, "That's fine. The offer is there." He waited silently for her to look at him and when she did he smiled reassuringly.

He understood. And she didn't know if she were glad for that or not.

"Anyway, I'll get going." He leant on the back of his chair for a moment and shot a wave to Ryan and Esposito.

The ease with which he stepped back and gave her space made her want to take a step closer. They were partners. Friends. And it was just dinner. "Is Martha going to be around tonight? I haven't had a chance to hear about how the King Lear performance went."

"She should be. I can call her and check." He said eagerly.

"Wait and see how the day pans out," she backtracked, holding herself out of reach again. "But, thanks, Castle."

His smile held a tinge of sadness as he walked away from the bullpen and headed towards the elevator. Kate hated herself a little for being a coward once again.

###

Beckett rested her head back against the wall, panting. Her hair lay in wet tangles across her forehead and she felt moisture gather and run between her breasts. She took a deep breath, and then another, and felt her heart rate slowly steady. She sucked in another mouthful of air before raising her water bottle above her mouth and drinking deeply.

She felt good. Throwing her water bottle on to her towel Beckett unrolled the handwraps she'd worn to protect her knuckles and threw them atop her pile as well.

Glancing at the clock fixed prominently on the wall of the precinct gym she allowed herself another five minutes for a stretch and a cool down. Her shoulders burned and her arms and legs felt pleasantly weighted. She stretched out on the padded floor and sunk to rest her chest on her knees. For a moment she thought longingly of heading home and soaking in her bath; hiding out with a good book and a glass of wine. But she'd called Alexis ninety minutes ago, just before she stepped into the gym, and unless a body dropped in the next hour there really wasn't any way of getting out of dinner at the loft.

Cycling through her routine of hamstrings, glutes, quads, Achilles, adductors, abdomen, back and shoulders she then bounced on the balls of her feet a few times before stooping to grab her gear and heading for the showers.

She finished quickly in the shower and turned the water on extra hot for a moment to let the heat soak into her skin. Shutting off the water, she towelled off briefly before opening the cubicle door and stepping into the change room, where the air was only marginally less steamy, to try to dry off properly. Pulling on her bra and panties she took an extra moment to towel dry her hair before fully dressing. She paused with her shirt half buttoned before taking it off again and stepped in front of the mirror. The scar that cut across her ribs was only minimally pink; a tracing of barely-raised skin that hardly spoke of the battle she'd fought. Likewise the circle at her breast; a bullet kiss.

She'd spent months agonising over how well they would heal, and then more months seeking out the scars, _wanting_ to remember that they were there. Digging around in her gym back she looked for the cream the doctors had given her to encourage the scars to fade. She couldn't remember the last time she'd used it. Unscrewing the lid Beckett squeezed a little onto her finger and traced the indentation between her rib bones.

Turning away from the mirror she finished getting dressed. She debated pulling her still damp hair back into a bun, but a moment's vanity had her with her hairdryer out, combing and twisting her hair into lose curls. She still had another half hour before she had to leave the precinct to get to the loft in time. She could re-apply her makeup, or she could check in upstairs and see how things were going before heading out.

She hesitated in front of the mirror an extra moment before feeling stupid about fussing over dinner with Castle and, in protest, threw everything into her gym back and got ready to leave. Heels on, sweaty clothes bundled safely, bag in hand she pressed her back to the door to step out. The door hardly had a chance to squeak and she was back in front of the mirror and digging in her bag for her mascara. Six quick swipes later she felt she'd found an acceptable compromise, and she rushed out of the locker room before she changed her mind.

###

Captain Gates was still in her office when she walked passed and the older woman looked up and motioned for the detective to step into her office.

"I thought you'd gone home earlier, Detective."

"Just spent a little time in the gym, sir, I'm on my way out now."

"I know you've just put in a full day, but Braunstein's team is still tied up with that leg they found in the park and we've just been notified of another body."

Beckett sighed. Now that she had no choice she realised how much she had been looking forward to a night with Castle and his family, "Not a problem, sir, do you have the address?"

Gates passed over a slip of paper, "Dr Parish is already on her way. The officers on scene are holding a suspect so, with any luck, it will be open and shut."

Beckett tried not to feel like the Captain had just jinxed her. Stowing her bag under her desk she got out her phone and made her first call.

"Hey, Espo. You hear about the body drop?"

"Lanie took it. Why?"

"It's ours."

"Nooooo. How come?"

"Braunstein's still got that body parts thing going on. Listen, I'm about to step into the elevator, Gates said they have a suspect remanded at the scene so how about Castle and I make a start on it and I'll give you a call if we need more tonight."

"Nah, it's ok. My night's already shot. I'll meet you there."

"You'll let Ryan know?"

"Done."

Ending the call she hit the button for the basement to grab a station car and had Castle's name up on screen to call the minute phone reception came back. She hit call as she buckled her seat belt.

"Detective Beckett, I hope you calling to ask what bottle of wine you should be bringing."

"Not quite, we've got a body."

"Ergh, the _one_ night that I don't want a murder to occur."

Beckett laughed at the macabre, but unsurprising, comment, "Why, Castle, did you have plans?"

"I had BIG plans."

"Be out front, I'll pick you up in ten."

###

"I'm tempted to make you apologise to Alexis in person," he didn't even greet her with coffee.

"Is she that upset?" Beckett double parked only long enough for him to close the door. She pulled back into traffic before he had his belt on.

"She'll be fine. With classes practically finished, no college and no steady boyfriend, she's just a little lacking in focus at the moment. She admires you. I suspect she wanted to get your opinion on her plans until school finishes."

"What plans?"

"I'm not sure exactly –" he paused, leaning forward to peer through the front windscreen spotting the yellow crime scene tape up ahead, "Is this us?"

"Yeah."

Castle looked across the road, seeking out landmarks, "Close to home."

They exited the vehicle together. An officer spotted them and had the tape lifted before they reached him. A small crowd had gathered, curious individuals or possible witnesses, and both Beckett and Castle scanned their faces. The red-brick building was nice enough, but a far cry from many of the luxury apartments in the area. The marble foyer was beautiful, but the glass doors had a slight haze of street-grime, the brass handles tarnished.

Through the window, Beckett spotted Dr Parish kneeling on the floor. A uniform stood ready beside her and two crime scene techs moved about; sampling, collecting, cataloguing.

Castle raised his hand to push open the heavy door but someone from inside beat him to it. They both mumbled their thanks; their attention on the body.

He was an elderly man; perhaps eighty and well-dressed. He lay sprawled on the floor with his arms close to his side and his head tipped back, neck exposed. His torso was a mess of blood and torn fabric; stabbed savagely; a crime of passion. Smears of blood lined the floor beneath his legs, drag marks, an unfailing arrow pointing them towards the wooden door a yard from his final resting place.

A lab tech pointed his camera and Beckett noticed the outline of a shoe print in the blood.

Lanie had already noticed them, but she waited until she had Beckett's attention before speaking, "No signs of a struggle. I have six penetrating stab wounds delivered in quick succession. The guy never had a chance. "

Beckett crouched down to get a closer look. The wounds were deep and gaping; muscle or anger behind each blow. She couldn't help but notice the splashes of red in his salt and pepper hair, and his face, weathered by the years, drawn back in an everlasting grimace of pain.

"Is that the parking garage?" Castle asked, nodding towards the door.

"Yeah. He was killed on the landing just inside."

"Who moved him?"

"His son. Officers have him in the car outside for you."

"Time of death?"

"Recent; rigor mortis has yet to set in. I'd say two hours at the most, but I'll narrow it down for you if I can."

Beckett glanced at her watch; some time after 5:30. "What else can you tell us?"

"He was robbed," She used the tip of her pen to lift the sleeve of his coat. The skin was scraped from the base of his thumb, and, slightly higher, a patch of pale skin rubbed almost hairless left the impression of a watch worn religiously.

"He also wore a ring on the other hand." His ring finger twisted at an odd angle, a matching band of pale, narrowed skin left bare.

"Wedding ring," Beckett said softly.

"He still had his wallet though; it was in his coat pocket, easily found if anyone had looked for it."

"We have an ID?"

"Rodney Cordon. Eighty-three years old. This was his apartment."


	6. Chapter 6

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 6.<p>

They'd had no more than a peek at the narrow landing that led to the garage, forensics were working in the confined area and less traffic meant less chance of contamination, so they restricted their observations to the foyer and Rodney Cordon himself.

Ryan and Esposito arrived just as Beckett was ready to speak to the suspect and they met just outside the building. Beckett filled them in on the details they had so far.

"We've got witnesses that saw the son over the body. If you can see what they've got, Castle and I will have a talk to our suspect."

"You got it," Esposito replied, slapping his partner on the shoulder, and the two of them turned on their heels and headed towards the three tense looking individuals standing silently with the officer guarding the door.

Ryan already had his notebook and pen out, face eager. Beckett felt a sudden pride and fondness for the remarkable people on her team.

Castle stood steady by her side waiting until she was ready, and at her nod they approached the police cruiser. The officer opened the rear door and helped the man out of the car.

Their suspect's hands twisted together, clasping, below the handcuffs. Beckett caught the impression of brown stained fingers, red at his sleeves. His face was contorted in grief, maybe a hint of anger, and defeat. A smear of dried blood flecked his cheek; dark against the shock-induced white of his skin.

Beckett looked to the officer and he knew what she was asking, "Eric Cordon, the victim's son. He's a Safety Engineer at the dry docks on Staten Island. Says he was coming in to spend the night at the victim's apartment."

Beckett turned her attention to the man. She didn't speak immediately, but waited to see if he would offer anything in reply to the question in her silence.

He did, "I didn't kill my father," his red-rimmed eyes skittered back to the building and where his father lay, "I found him on my way down to the garage. I was trying to help him!" His voice cracked.

"Okay, Mr Cordon." Castle recognised that tone in her voice; neither hostile nor comforting; she wouldn't place him in any particular box just yet. "The officers will escort you to the precinct and we'll talk further there."

"Wait, what about my father?" he reached out as if to grab at the detective, and Castle's hand moved of its own volition to keep him from touching her.

Belatedly the officer put his hand on the suspect's chest; both a warning and a reassurance. Beckett stepped back, a quick glance at Castle her only acknowledgment of thanks. "Our medical examiner is with him now; she'll take care of him."

He seemed satisfied by that, and allowed himself to be jostled back into the cruiser.

"Wait," Beckett held the car door open and asked, "Are there any other family members we should contact?"

"No, there's just me."

"Was your father married?"

"My mother died ten years ago. There was no one else," he said flatly.

"Okay," she tapped the top of the door and stepped back.

The officer asked with a glance for any further instructions. And when Beckett shook her head he shut the door.

"Have forensics finished with him?" she asked.

"They saw him first," he assured her, "We'll bag his clothes once we get back."

"Thanks, let him get cleaned up once you have what you need."

###

Night had long since fallen by the time the team assembled back at the precinct. The beautifully blank murder board had been transformed once again by series of photographs and neatly penned notes.

Castle watched with silent appreciation as Beckett began the story of Rodney Cordon's death. He carried two cups of espresso and placed one on their desk and held the other out, handle first, for her to take.

She mumbled her thanks and returned to the board. He returned to the break room to make two more. He let the wafting steam sooth him as he gathered his own impressions from the scene. The espressos virtually made themselves as he imagined two men arguing in a darkened parking garage, a disagreement on the stairs, skeletons in the family closet...

A call of "Bro, you joining us?" startled him and he nearly spilt the coffee.

The three detectives stood gathered, waiting on him, and he couldn't help his broad smile as he crossed the hall.

"We got confirmed reports from two separate witnesses," Esposito launched into their interview summary. "They saw the son covered in blood and crouched over the victim. And another witness that saw him attempting to flee through the garage. He couldn't get out without a key tag and, between the three of them, they called the cops, kept him busy, and kept every else away from the body."

"Fine examples of the benefits of watching CSI," Castle approved.

"One of the witnesses will swear they saw him stab the vic and heard him say 'I'm sorry, Dad'," Esposito paused, and his wide-eyed look said 'criminals are idiots'.

Ryan finished his narration for him, "And CSU found a blade thrown under one of cars near the entrance. They're running prints on it now."

"They find his watch and ring?"

"Not yet."

"Anyone see him arrive."

"No."

"Okay then, they're bringing him up now so we'll see what he has to say."

Ryan put his notebook on Beckett's desk and, without relinquishing his coffee, he picked up a black marker pen and started filling in the time line with witness estimates of TOD.

Beckett's stomach growled, and all three men looked in her direction.

"What? I didn't get time for dinner!"

Castle moaned, "I know! And it smelt soooo good."

Beckett fought the blush she knew would be staining her cheeks and looked away from the curious glances of Ryan and Esposito.

"You were having dinner? Together?" Ryan didn't let it go.

"No. Castle was at home. I was still here."

"Why were you still here? You told us to go home hours ago?"

"Yeah, we thought you were leaving too," Esposito added, never one to abandon his post.

"I was in the gym. Worked up an appetite."

Castle fought a losing battle with the images that statement conjured and tried to remember what he was going to say, "Ah... you want to grab something before we go in?"

"Nah, let's just get it done. Maybe this'll be a slam-dunk and we'll all be home in time for Jimmy Kimmel."

###

"Mr Cordon," Beckett said immediately upon entering the interrogation room, "We have sworn witness statements that place you at the scene of the crime, and forensics are comparing your fingerprints with those found on the murder weapon. What do you think they'll tell us?"

"I touched the knife. But I didn't kill my father."

"Why were you there Mr Cordon?"

"I spend every Thursday night with my father. He's getting on," he paused, realising his error, "he _was _getting older, for the last year I've worked four days over on Staten Island and then done a few hours private consulting in the city on Fridays. Leaves me time to run errands for Dad and check in with him."

"What time did you arrive at his apartment?"

"About 6:30, I came straight from work."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"I caught a cab. I guess the receipt is in my wallet?"

Beckett made a note to check, "What did you do when you arrived?"

"I headed straight for garage. I'd just stepped –"

"You didn't go up to your father's apartment first?"

"No, I never do. He goes to the bodega on Thursday afternoons, get's a few groceries, but he leaves them in the car and I bring them up for him."

"Go on,"

"I was on my way in and he was there on the floor. I didn't know it was him at first, I almost tripped over him, and when I bent down –" he broke for a second, his eyes swum with tears, but he swallowed and continued on, "I thought he'd had a heart attack. The light in the stairwell has been broken for a week; it was something I was going to fix tomorrow. I just didn't see the blood."

Beckett didn't speak. She waited, focused, until he looked up from his hands, and then she held his gaze; unblinking.

He swallowed again, roughly, and kept talking, "I tried to help him up. But when I got him inside I saw the blood."

"You were caught in the act of stabbing him, Mr Cordon."

"No. It's not possible. I didn't."

"Then where did the knife come from?"

"It was there. It was_ in_ him. I pulled it out and –"

"And you didn't think to call 911?" Castle asked.

"I would have. I was going go. But then the guy from 2C started yelling."

"And you tried to run?"

"I don't know. I guess I did. I'm really not sure," he stuttered, and looked down at his hands; clenched tight into fists.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence and Beckett rose to answer it knowing it would be information she needed.

"Prints on the knife are a match," Esposito confirmed what they already suspected. He spoke loudly enough that their suspect heard.

Nodding, Beckett stepped back into the room and leaned against the door. Eric Cordon met her gaze and said calmly, "I'd like a lawyer."

###

They gathered around the murder board where Ryan was already adding to the timeline.

"Cab receipt puts him at the building at 6:14. The call into 911 from Mekhi Akamu, the gentleman in 2C, came at 6:33."

"Lanie put initial TOD at no earlier than 5:30. He certainly had opportunity."

"We've got him with means; Lanie said the knife is consistent with the wounds and the prints match, but she won't confirm it as the murder weapon or the blood as being a match until tomorrow."

"So, motive." Castle said, moving their focus to his area of expertise.

"We've already got a request in for phone and financials." Ryan said. "And we're running a background check on both father and son."

"Is there anyone still at the crime scene?"

"I can find out."

"See if we can find out what time the father got back from the bodega, and who else accessed the parking garage."

"On it." Ryan and Esposito both headed back to their desks to start placing calls.

Beckett leaned back on her desk and stared at the limited information they had on the murder board. "We can hold him on probable cause for now, but let's get a few wheels turning tonight."

###

Forty-five minutes later, and several scribbled notes on the murderboard, Beckett call it, "We're not going to get too much more tonight. Let's head home and be back here early in the morning."

"Sounds good to me." Esposito agreed, appearing instantly at her elbow. "On my way in I'll see if the security company has those videos for us."

"Thanks, Espo. Have a nice night."

A muttered, "what's left of it," followed him down the corridor and Beckett wondered what plans the bodydrop had interrupted.

Ryan wasn't far behind his partner, a skip in his step at the thought of getting home to his new wife.

"You still coming back for dinner?" Castle asked, already knowing the answer.

"I don't think so, Castle. I'm just going to heat up some soup and fall into bed."

"I'll walk you out if you're leaving now."

"Let's go." She favoured him with a smile and walked back around her desk to get her coat. She remembered her gym bag under the desk and dragged it out making a mental note to put a load of washing on as soon as she got home.

"You get much writing done today?" she asked as they stood waiting at the elevator.

"I did, actually. Nikki was very grateful," he smirked.

"I bet she was."

* * *

><p><strong>AN- I'm writing and then going back and editing this story once I get further along, and so I'm a couple of chapters ahead of this at the moment... and I'm finding I'm not cut out for non-M rated fics!**

**When i was looking at who was listed in the Castle beta-reader directory i was really surprised by the number of people that said they didn't want to beta graphic sex (seriously? LOL!) so I'm aware that there is probably a younger reading audience here, or maybe people are just not into graphic sex?**

**So I'm asking- how sexy can Beckett and Castle get? Who's reading this? Will a totally non-gratuitous and character-based progression into smut cause anyone to have major heart palpitations?**


	7. Chapter 7

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 7<p>

* * *

><p>Beckett meant it when she'd said an early start; she was up and in the shower at five. Halfway through her morning routine she took her phone off the charger and tapped out a text.<p>

** I'm getting dressed. If you beat me in, I'll buy the coffee.**

It took a full minute to get a reply.

** If you'd said you were getting UNdressed there would be more enthusiasm on this end. **

She grinned.

** Get out of bed, Castle!**

**Again, you're going entirely in the wrong direction.**

Beckett laughed out loud, and in the quiet of morning the sound startled her. She'd almost forgotten she was alone. She finished dressing and allowed herself a few extra minutes on her hair and makeup.

Once she pronounced herself 'done' she moved lightly down the stairs and into the kitchen. She debated skipping breakfast, but there'd been a few too many skipped meals lately and if the case cracked today there was a good chance they'd be working through lunch.

She busied herself with a bowl of muesli and yoghurt, and started the kettle for coffee. Castle would be another hour away; she glanced at her watch making a bet with herself. She didn't bother to sit down; instead she leaned against the hob and stared out at the city lights. Dawn was still a good hour away and the lights reflected off the panes of glass and echoed across the wooden floors and stainless steel counter. It made her corner of the world feel small and beautiful, and her a part of something great and wonderful at the same time. From seemingly nowhere she decided to pay a visit to The Met if she found time over the weekend, perhaps Alexis would like to go?

Her coffee disappeared in silent contemplation. And it wasn't until she donned her badge and gun that her mind turned fully to Rodney Cordon.

###

Footsteps in the corridor had her glancing at her watch almost exactly an hour later. When Castle handed over her usual coffee the bashfully amused look they exchanged alluded to their early morning messages. Without further comment he placed his bakery bag on the corner of the desk and took his seat.

Ryan spoke up from his side of the bullpen, "The body isn't even a fresh one and still Castle turns up at the crack of dawn. That's dedication, man."

"It's something," he neither agreed nor disagreed.

"Did Cordon Junior confess overnight?"

"No such luck," Beckett replied, "But we have backgrounds, and phone and financial records in so there's all sorts of exciting detective work for you sink your teeth into."

"Wonderful. I hope there's still ink left in my highlighter."

"You want phone or financials?"

"Give me the money."

Beckett's smile told him he'd made the wrong decision and he groaned aloud.

Esposito's arrival a half hour later bought a brief respite. He had the video surveillance logs from the building and had spoken to the superintendant who confirmed that Eric did indeed stay Thursday nights. He also said he'd never seen anything in their relationship to suggest problems.

The team crowded around Ryan's computer to see what they had.

Five minutes later they were back in their own chairs, highlighters in hand, and Ryan was hunched over his screen clicking frame after frame. The CD hadn't provided the break they'd been hoping for. Instead of providing video surveillance of the parking garage they had, instead, a series of stills taken five seconds apart of the main garage door, and nothing at all of the garage interior or stairwell. The building also had nothing in the foyer area.

"I'm not seeing much of anything in his phone records," Beckett stated.

"Financials look clean too. Junior is the sole beneficiary for his will, no siblings, but then it doesn't look like he was in desperate need of the money; his bank account is healthy enough and credit history shows nothing unusual."

"He doesn't have any kind of record either," Esposito added, "A couple of parking fines and a speeding fine. He's Mr Joe Average. Married and long since divorced; two kids, now adults, living in California. Married again in 2005, wife died last year."

Castle flipped through his pages of financial information, "I have him as being a beneficiary there too, got a sizable payment, and his wife's son contested the will although it doesn't look like it made it to court. How'd the wife die?"

"Um, hang on," Esposito entered a new search, "breast cancer; nothing suspicious. I did track down a brother for Cordon Senior in New Hampshire."

"Can you get me his details?" Another family member to talk to would give them a better picture of the relationship between father and son, "How are you going with those images, Ryan?"

"I'm working backwards, haven't got Senior arriving back home yet."

"Okay, I'm going to call the cab company, see if the driver remembers anything about Junior's demeanour during the ride over. Espo, can you track down his employer, see if they noticed anything odd over the last week?"

"Sure, thing."

"Then we might take a ride and check out the apartment, talk to the neighbours again, see what he's movements were like over the past week."

###

"Got him!" Ryan called out, eventually. He turned to share his victory only to find all three other team members on their phones.

He turned back to his computer and printed out the image. Wandering over to the shared printer he took a close look at the timestamped image and then added it to the murder board. He dutifully added a note at 5:40pm; 'arrives home'.

Beckett watched him and nodded, not pausing in her conversation, "Do we have an approximate size?" she added another note to the pad in front of her and, "Okay, call as soon as you have something more." She hung up abruptly and pushed back in her chair.

Castle mumbled a quick, "I'll call you back, I gotta go." Before he also ended his call and sat up straight, waiting.

Esposito was the last the join the hastily arranged conference and he shuffled several papers into his file on the way over.

"We can narrow time of death to between 5:40 and 6:30pm." Ryan started the ball rolling.

"Crime Lab has two other sets of fingerprints on the knife found on scene. And Lanie confirms it as the murder weapon. But we have bloody footprints that are not a match to Junior or either of the witnesses; size 12, so not a small guy. We're still yet to recover either the watch or wedding ring. And the M.E.'s office is backed up so we're not going to get full autopsy results until tomorrow." Beckett relayed her information.

Esposito jumped in during the lull that followed, "Junior's boss and co-workers said they didn't notice anything out of the ordinary over the past week. He had some issues in the past with the wife's son, that thing with the will maybe?" he shrugged, "But he stopped calling when reception got word to hold his calls a while back. The boss said he had a sizable project that he was working on and he was a little stressed, pulling a couple extra hours each night, but they looked over the specs and nothing looked out of place. He had one appointment out of the office yesterday afternoon but I called and it checked out. They all confirmed that he'd spent Thursday nights in the city since his wife died and he had a good relationship with his father," he was about to wind it up when he looked as his notes again, "Oh, and the cab driver remembers him reading a magazine for the entire trip over, and he gave a good tip."

All eyes turned to Castle.

He looked around guiltily, "Alexis says hi?" he grimaced.

###

A barricaded section in front of the sidewalk remained, and the two matching Crown Vics pulled in behind each other in front of Rodney Cordon's apartment building. They gathered for a quick word before the two groups split up; Ryan and Esposito to canvas surrounding businesses and apartments in the hope of finding either a witness or additional video surveillance, and Beckett and Castle to look at the victim's apartment and question the neighbours.

The foyer had been cleaned of all evidence, although a crystal vase now sat against the wall filled with flowers. There was no card.

They stepped into the elevator and Castle pulled the metal gate shut behind them. Beckett pushed the raised knob for the second floor and the car shuddered and made a groaning noise as it started its slow, unsteady climb upwards.

"We should have taken the stairs," Castle complained, memories of past elevator mishaps taunting him.

"I don't know, Castle" Beckett drawled, "I could think of worse ways to spend the morning than being trapped in an elevator," she took a half-step closer and stood her ground, her eyes not leaving his.

Castle shot her a wide-eyed look, "You... with...?" he seemed rooted in place. Beckett could see him struggle to keep his eyes locked on hers; defeated, they dipped to her mouth, and then lower to the hint of skin visible at the V of her shirt, "Errr..."

She loved to watch him flounder.

The elevator jerked and Beckett stepped away. They were both more than a little disappointed to slide the gate open, and Beckett deliberately brushed passed him as she stepped out. Her own body tingled with the knowledge that she could affect him so easily. It was something of a reassurance; that power over him, considering how powerless she felt being unable to control her own responses to him.

She smiled broadly, safe in the knowledge that Castle couldn't see her face, and listened to his quickened footsteps as he rushed to catch up with her.

Castle closed the distance between them and was right at her shoulder when he spoke.

"I'm going to add 'elevator' to the list, right after 'handcuffs'." And just like that he'd turned the tables. Damn him.

Mr Cordon's apartment was at the end of the corridor and faced the front of the street. Using the key Esposito had gotten from the super earlier in the day they let themselves in. By silent mutual agreement they separated, both turned serious, as they looked around.

The apartment was not overly large, but it was decorated brightly and appeared well cared for. A pile of books sat on the coffee table in front of a comfortable looking recliner. Castle couldn't help sneaking a peek – Kim Edwards, Cormac McCarthy, Nicolas Sparks– he shivered and walked away. The television was something from last century and Castle wondered if it even picked up cable.

The sideboard held an assortment of memorabilia; family photos, figurines, a row of pewter statues from landmarks around the world. A black and white wedding photo caught and held his attention. Mr Cordon had been blessed with a beautiful wife and, judging by the smile on the young man's face in the old photo, he knew it.

They continued their tour of his apartment; the bedroom was neat, sheets pulled up, clothes folded casually on a side chair. A single plate, mug, bowl, and assorted cutlery sat on the drainer board; it didn't appear that he'd had company that day. A newspaper lay folded on the kitchen bar, the crossword all-but finished. Castle glanced at the date; it was yesterday's paper.

Beckett lifted the lid on his fold-away desk and glanced over the stack of bills. He'd stamped them marked 'paid' and even written the date in the appropriate box provided by the stamp. She flicked through the pile to see if anything stood out.

When she stepped away she noticed Castle watching her, "Anything?"

"Nothing. Looks like he had a leisurely morning alone."

"Let's knock on a few doors."

###

They were both feeling frustrated when they pushed through the doors of the diner. Ryan had sent a message to say they'd spoken to a number of business owners in the area and nobody had anything pertinent to say; other than that the father and son had been regulars for Friday brunch at a diner down the street. The boys had claimed it was the perfect opportunity for them to question the staff and owners and get some lunch at the same time. Beckett couldn't argue.

Ryan and Esposito already had a plate of jumbo-sized cookies and were sipping on grande coffees when Castle and Beckett joined them at their booth.

"Thanks for waiting, fellas," Castle shot at them.

"We haven't ordered yet, these are just to keep us going." Ryan apologised.

"Hey, I'm hungry! No one bought _me_ a blueberry muffin for breakfast this morning," Esposito complained. He deliberately picked up another cookie and started munching.

Beckett gently nudged them back on to business, "Nothing in our interviews suggests any animosity between the father and son. But we also drew a blank with any other leads."

"Same," Esposito spoke around his cookie, "the old man was well known and well liked. The son's been a regular since he moved back to the boroughs about twenty years ago."

"Seems a few old guys met for bridge every couple of weeks. When we finish here we'll see if we can catch up with a couple of them," Ryan added. He pushed a copy of the menu towards Castle and Beckett, "They do an all-day breakfast that looks really good."

###

It was three in the afternoon by the time they returned to the precinct and Captain Gates was waiting for them.

"Tell me you're ready to press charges, Detective."

Beckett shook her head, "It's not looking good. Everything we have so far is circumstantial and the more we get the less I think that Eric Cordon is our guy."

"Do you have any other leads?"

"That's the problem; there isn't a single thing in Rodney Cordon's life that we've uncovered that would make him appear to be a target for murder."

"Could we be looking at a simple robbery gone wrong?"

The expression on Beckett's face spoke of her belief that it was unlikely, "The pieces don't fit; he was killed in a secure building, his movements were too well-known, and attack itself was far too violent not to have been personally motivated."

"Get something on our guy, before I get a call to cut him loose." Gates looked sternly behind the lead detective to the rest of her team before disappearing back into her office.

Beckett didn't need to say anything; the others already agreed with her.

"Let's take another look at the family situation," she suggested.

"You hear anything back from forensics?" Esposito asked.

"Not yet," Beckett replied. She allowed herself a smile for the first time in the last hour, "Why don't you give Lanie a call and see what's holding things up."

"You got it," was his eager reply.

###

Beckett massaged her fingers across her scalp and leaned her head back against the soft cushions of her couch. She closed her eyes and stifled a yawn. The glass of wine probably wasn't a good idea before dinner.

Reaching blindly over the arm of the couch she snagged her phone and hit speed-dial. A cheery voice with a heavy Chinese accent answered and she placed her order. After she hung up she glanced at her watch. Dinner would be forty minutes away; plenty of time for a bath.

She took her time. It had been days since she'd had the chance for a long soak and if it hadn't been for the fact that both the M.E.'s office and the lab techs were backed up with a priority case she wouldn't have had a chance tonight, either.

She forced her mind away from the case and tried to focus on more pleasant things. When that turned out to be a mistake she dried her hands briefly on a towel and grabbed the well-read book off the ledge beside the tub. It wasn't quite the same as having the man himself in her bath but she'd settle with his voice in her head for now.

A glass of wine and two chapters later she decided if she were any more relaxed she'd fall asleep in the bath. After towelling off and dressing in some comfortably well-worn clothes she padded back downstairs to wait for her dinner.

She'd barely crossed the kitchen when two quick knocks sounded at her door. It sounded like Castle's cheery beat and her memory flashed to a time not so long ago when he'd intercepted the delivery boy and bought her dinner up himself. She turned on her heel and crossed to the foyer in two long steps.

"Hey," she said cheerfully as she threw the door open.

Micky blinked at her in surprise. Recovering quickly he smiled broadly, "Hey, Detective. Um, you want me to bring this in for you?"

The flash of disappointment she immediately felt only made her angry at herself. Micky took a half step backward, "Okay, no, here you go then," He held out the bag for her to take.

She grabbed some change off the corner table and swapped it for the takeout. "Thanks, Micky. You have a nice night." She forced a smile.

Crossing back to the lounge area she unpacked the containers onto her coffee table before slumping onto the couch. Dinner smelt great. She didn't know where her appetite had gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Go on, leave a review! You know you want to...<strong>

.


	8. Chapter 8

**So i'm changing the rating... although don't get too excited just yet- there is still too much detective work going on and not enough romping around the place naked. But i think they're moving in the right direction...**

* * *

><p>Keep Showing Up<br>Chapter 8

Beckett had hoped that a good night's sleep and fresh eyes would let her glean something new from the evidence they already had. But an hour into the morning saw her almost as frustrated as she'd been when she left the night before. At least Lanie would have something for them soon, she hoped.

She maintained her post leaning on the edge of her desk and let her eyes flick over the murderboard. Her gaze kept falling on the photo of the bloody shoeprints found on scene, and the note below it of their style and size. It was looking more and more likely that those prints belonged to their murderer, and less and less likely that Cordon Junior had anything to do with his father's death; and that left them with no leads at all to tracking down a suspect.

Her cell phone rang and Beckett practically pounced on it. Lanie's voice on the other end was a welcome relief.

"Honey, I know you've had your wheels spinning on this one!"

"Ergh, we've got nothing," Beckett agreed.

"I think I can help you out."

"I'll take it whatever you've got."

"Grab Toto and come on down."

"Toto isn't in yet, but I'll see where he is and head straight over."

"You do that," Lanie's smile was clearly evident in the tone of her voice.

Beckett grabbed her coat and moved hurriedly to the elevator. She jabbed the call button a couple of times and, while she waited for the carriage to arrive, she dialled Castle. The elevator door opened to the sound of his ringtone. He held two coffees and was in the process of trying to balance one atop the other to dig his phone out of his pocket.

Beckett stepped forward to rescue her latte, "It's just me, Castle." She cancelled the call and dropped her own phone into her pocket.

"Huh?" he looked up quickly.

Beckett's hand closed around the coffee and she spun smoothly on her heel to take her place at his side. She leaned forward to press the button for the ground floor and stepped back nonchalantly

"Good morning," She took a sip of her coffee to hide her smile.

His phone finally went silent, "Detective Beckett, good morning. Where are we off to?"

"Lanie has results for us."

"Ah, finally."

###

"Eric Cordon is not your guy," Lanie said as soon as they pushed through the morgue doors.

"Please tell me you know who is," Beckett replied.

"I got DNA samples off to the lab for you yesterday but you ain't gonna get nothin' outta them until Monday. You bring me a suspect and I'll see what I can do for you.

"You've got nothing else at all from the body?"

"When have I ever given you nothing?" Lanie replied, her eyes widening at the mere thought of her not having information to pass on, "Have a look for yourself." She held out gloves for them to put on and they crossed the room together, shoes echoing in the stillness.

The now-naked body of Rodney Cordon lay on Lanie's slab. With her blue-gloved hands Lanie ran her fingers gently over a wide patch of bruising across his clavicle.

"That's a hand print," she explained, and she flattened her hand over his chest to show how the seemingly separate bruises formed the heel of a hand, and then the thumb and three central fingers. Her own hand finished a full inch short of the fingermarks and Castle stepped forward to compare his larger hand.

"Your guy is at least as tall as Castle, my guess would be bigger. The way he held his victim," Lanie pushed Castle around to face her and demonstrated by pressing her hand against his chest, "and then the angle of the stab wounds," she mimed impaling him with a knife, the hand at his chest pushing him backwards.

Castle, always happy to add a little dramatic flair, grunted and gurgled his dying breath.

Lanie turned her back on Castle and spoke directly to Beckett, "I'd say your do-er is about six foot four."

"The son is shorter than I am," Beckett mused aloud.

"Even without the heels," Castle added.

"So none of the stab wounds could have been made by someone shorter?"

"No, your guy was angry. He had him held up against a wall and stabbed him six times; one after the other."

"We have a witness who says he saw the son leaning over the body stabbing him."

"No, but I think I can explain that. Check this out," she walked them over to the display monitor; "This is an x-ray of his spinal column. See this nick," she pointed to a slightly triangular section of missing bone, "your guy stabbed him so hard the knife became embedded in his spine." Lanie's face spoke clearly of her distaste.

"So Eric's story about pulling the knife out is looking likely," Beckett stated, her frustration at being without a suspect made her sound almost disappointed that it hadn't been the son.

"You can't trust witnesses; some people spend too much time watching CSI."

Beckett rewarded Castle with a smile and a bemused shake of her head.

Lanie pretended to ignore them both. "It was a long shot, but I tried to get prints from his shirt," she shook her head, "Big waste of time; but we did manage to get a couple of partials off of his hand." The medical examiner lifted the deceased's hand and indicated the area around the disfigured ring finger. "The partials wouldn't have been much on their own but we compared them to the three different sets of prints we found on the murder weapon and got a match."

"So whoever stabbed him also took his ring."

"Mm hmm."

"Okay, gives us something to work with. Thanks, Lanie."

The three moved to the exit and, with a polite smile, Lanie held the door open for them. She waited until Castle stepped through before she moved bodily in front of Beckett and backed her up; pushing her into the morgue once more. Beckett looked at her friend, confused.

"Girl, you've been holding out on me!" Lanie accused, polite smile gone, "Writer-boy has himself some fiiiine chest muscles." One eyebrow arched dangerously.

Beckett couldn't help her laugh, but she schooled her features quickly and stepped smoothly around the other woman. She leaned on the swinging doors a moment and paused, as if lost in devilishly pleasant thoughts, before sighing dreamily, "I know." Pressing backwards through the door she giggled at the expression on her friend's face.

###

Ryan and Esposito were gathered around the espresso machine in the break room when Castle and Beckett returned to the 12th precinct. They kept their morning greetings brief and waited for Beckett to fill them in.

"I just put a call in to have them release Eric Cordon; he's not our guy."

"Figures," was Ryan's reply.

"Any clues on who is?" asked Esposito.

"Big dude, likes jewellery," Castle answered.

"Yeah, pretty much," agreed Beckett. "Ryan, I'll get you to sit down with Mr Cordon and see if we can get a description of the wedding ring and watch and we'll run it around a few pawn shops in the area. Also see if he can think of anyone big, six foot four-ish, that might be holding a grudge."

"We hear back about the style of shoes they got that print off?"

"Not yet, check it out?"

"Got it."

"I'm going to go fill Gates in." That earned a round of sympathetic grimaces.

"I'll get the coffee," Castle volunteered.

"Chicken."

###

Castle sat leaning forward in his chair with both hands wrapped around one knee and alternated between staring at the murderboard, and staring at Beckett who was staring at the murderboard.

The case was beginning to stagnate and the detectives had resorted to more paperwork and re-canvassing neighbours in the unlikely hope that some titbit of information gave them a potential avenue of investigation.

When he'd woken that morning he'd had every intention of suggesting a night out at the Old Haunt to celebrate closing the case. Could he suggest instead that they all go out and drown their sorrows? Castle was beginning to dread being away; knowing he was enjoying sunshine and cocktails while his teammates trudged away at the case felt incredibly wrong. Walking out the door now was not even an option.

"Okay, Castle, I'm officially ready for whatever crazy theory you got," Beckett interrupted his morose musings.

"I am all out of crazy theories."

"Seriously?" The detective shot him a surprised look, "Hmm, I'm strangely disappointed."

"You and me both."

Beckett perceived his lack of enthusiasm and, as if knowing the direction of his thoughts, she asked, "What time do you fly out in the morning?"

"Eight o'clock. I have a lunchtime thing."

"You should head on home and spend some time with Alexis before you go."

"Nah, she won't be home until later tonight. She's helping Mother at the studio," Castle was quiet for a moment longer before he began to irritate even himself with his lack of input. He sat up and forced himself to alertness. Beckett had asked for crazy theories and he wasn't going to disappoint.

"Mistaken identity," he suggested, "Who else in the building gets homes regularly between 5:00 and 5:30?"

"Espo's going to ask when he sees if Mr Six-foot-four sounds familiar," Beckett replied, "I need crazier."

"Well, I think we can rule out ninja assassins, but CIA still has potential," his comment got a small smile but not the laugh he wanted. Although... "Hmmm..."

"What?" Beckett asked, recognising the change in demeanour.

"What field of work was Cordon Senior in?"

"I don't think he's worked for a while, Castle, he was eighty-three years old."

"I know, but before he retired, what did he do?"

"If you're going to suggest he was cold war spy bought out of retirement..."

"Sleeper-agent?" he grinned, "No, I was just thinking his past work associates is one area we've not delved into at all."

"Okay, I can work with that. You sticking around long enough to look into it?"

"Sure," he agreed. He hesitated for just a moment before he asked, "Hey, listen, how about we see if the boys want to grab dinner and a few beers on me at the Old Haunt?"

"Tonight?"

"Why not? It looks like you're going to be in for another day of more of the same tomorrow. You could all use a break tonight."

Beckett was both surprised and annoyed at the sudden improvement in her mood. She was willing to admit that she'd miss Castle's input while he was away –somehow he'd come to make trudging through a dead-end case something other than painful –and recently she'd also started admitting to herself how much she simply missed 'him' when he wasn't around, but pre-emptively missing him was bordering on pathetic.

Still, a few hours away from the precinct with good food and conversation sounded great; pathetic or not, "Check with the boys, but I've got no other plans," she shrugged, aiming for casualness.

Castle's enthusiastically broad smile was anything but casual.

###

They were already laughing by the time they stepped into the welcoming air of the Old Haunt. Ryan and Esposito had both made quick calls when they got back to the precinct and Lanie and Jenny were already waiting for them in a booth towards the back.

Somehow the frustration of the day only made the relief to be away greater; and without having had so much as a drink Beckett already felt a relaxed warmth at the base of her belly. The tantalisingly familiar hand at the base of her spine probably wasn't helping either. She would have sworn it was a good two inches lower than the usually safe and gentlemanly hand that so often rested at the curve of her back. It kept her pleasantly distracted and she revelled in the glorious way the slightest of touches from him could bring her body to life.

Did his fingers just skim across the line of her thong? The sudden flexing of said fingers and then their immediate absence told her he had; and that he probably hadn't meant to. Beckett felt an echo of their presence far lower and her laugh died on her lips.

Castle made a strangled noise deep in his throat and disentangled himself from the group. He pointed vaguely towards the bar and then spun on his heel.

"What's up with Castle?" Esposito questioned.

"He's just getting our drinks, man," Ryan replied, as if it were obvious, "Hey, there's the girls!" His smile was unreserved and, like a man on a mission, he headed straight for his wife.

Lanie and Jenny had both noted their arrival. Beckett sought out her best friend's gaze and used it as an anchor to stop herself from following Castle. Lanie's girl-talk spidey senses must have been tingling because she stood up and not-so-gently told Esposito to slide in before her so she could sit next to Kate.

"What's up with you?" she asked in her usual direct manner.

"I think I need a drink," she turned her head sideways and spoke in her ear, "But don't let me have more than two!"

"Writer-boy driving you crazy?" she asked, sympathetically.

Beckett turned to look at her.

"Oh lord, Writer-boy is driving you _crazy_!" her wide eyed expression would have been comical if Beckett were not feeling so on-edge. "Girl, you are stronger than me."

"Right now I am not feeling so strong," she admitted.

"Well you know that I am all in favour of giving in."

"Lanie," she dropped her eyes to study her hands. She risked a glance in Castle's direction to make sure they would not be interrupted. When she spoke again the hurt was clear, "You know I can't."

"I know you _won't_. I don't know anything about _can't_."

Castle approached the table, drinks tray in hand, and Lanie was suddenly pressing Esposito further around the curved seating.

"Whoa, Chica, are you making a move?" Espo asked loudly earning a laugh from Ryan and Beckett, and an angry look from Lanie.

"Will you just move over? There's no room on this end," she sassed him.

Castle sat the tray down and started passing out drinks. Ryan looked at the seating options available and helpfully suggested, "There's plenty of room on this side." He started to move over.

"I got it," Lanie insisted, practically dragging Beckett further along and clearing a seat.

It felt like highschool all over again. Beckett wanted to strangle her friend and the look she gave her made that clear; and then she felt the seat dip beside her and Castle's knuckles graze the side of her thigh as he moved to get comfortable.

"Cosy," he said quietly, for only her to hear.

Not trusting her reply she reached for her drink instead.

Her friends joked and laughed around her but the meaning behind their words skittered away each time the thigh beside her flexed and moved, and at every caress of Castle's voice floating past her ear.

It had been over six months since she'd broken up with Josh, and as much as she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else she also had to stop imagining herself with Castle... at least for now. Kate reminded herself of the progress she'd made recently with Dr Burke and tried to remain positive about the changes she'd felt within herself.

Nights like these she needed to remember to avoid spending their down time together. She might not be emotionally ready to let down her defences but her body was sure as hell putting up a good argument for removing any physical barriers between them.

How easy it would be to put her hand on his knee, or on his thigh. The bar was dimly lit, the table covered their laps; she could run her fingers over the curve of his leg and not stop until she was dangerously close to his inner thigh and nobody would know.

She knew exactly how he would react; the stunned motionlessness that her first tentative touch would cause, the tightening of his thighs as she moved purposely across him. He'd be hard before her hand even reached his inner thigh; just as aroused as she was from thinking about it.

But where would that take them? Back to her apartment for a night of earth-shattering sex, no doubt; and then the awkwardness (what does this mean...?) and the apologies (I'm not ready...) and, inevitably, the end of the best partnership and the most rewarding relationship of her adult life. Castle leaned in to ask her a question, his mouth close to her ear, and her traitorous body moved closer; totally oblivious to whatever it was he was saying. Still caught in her own imaginings all she could manage to think was that the sex would probably be worth it. Knowing him and his boundless enthusiasm for uncovering all her secrets, and how incredibly electric his every touch was, it would be a marathon of ecstasy.

"Kate," his tone was almost insistent, and she realised it wasn't the first time he called her name.

"Sorry, Castle, what did you say?"

"I asked if you were alright." Castle angled his body so he could see her eyes, and his face was oh-so-close to her own; his expression one of concern.

"I'm fine, Castle. Just a little tired I suppose."

"You're leaving?"

If his eyes hadn't taken on that familiar look of expected rejection she might have said she had to go. But after tonight he wouldn't be around for a few days, plenty of time to re-establish her boundaries. She didn't want to say goodnight yet.

"No, I'm not leaving."

So she stayed. And the night was a pleasurable torture of brief touches and genuine laughter and camaraderie and conversation. Beckett refused his offer of a lift home.

The front door had barely closed before she stepped out of her boots and began undressing on her way up the stairs. She didn't bother with pyjamas. Instead she crawled into bed naked, her hand already between her legs, fingers swirling in the wetness he'd created; her orgasm came immediately. His name strangled on her lips.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- an aside from me-<strong>

**Kaaaaaate- just grab him and make out with him already! you know you want to!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N- bit of a longer update here... but i really just wanted them to get to the end of the day so they could re-connect! Gods, just solve the case and get naked already!**

**We're starting to head into fluff territory here, and it's been forever since I've written an extended character-moment-only type story so bear with me. Hopefully we can all bond through our mutual fangirl-ness and just go with the flow... And i realised while writing this that we never really get to see Kate and Alexis interact without Castle- which is a shame, really.**

**Anyways, please review- it makes me feel loved. **

**Thanks to madsthenerdygirl for reading through all this and leading the smut cheer squad. I'm listening! I promise. But there's bad guys on the streets and Kate has a job to do!**

* * *

><p>Keep Showing Up<br>Chapter 9

The slide of sheets across her naked skin and the chill of the dawn air on her shoulder were Beckett's first impressions of the morning. She paused, mid-stretch, and squinted an eye to make sure she was in her own bed; she rarely slept naked when she was alone. The familiar outline of her bookshelf and the dark square of her well-curtained window reassured her.

Long legs stretched out and Beckett arched her back and raised her arms above her head to shake the lassitude from her body. Reaching for her phone Beckett checked the time and tried to orient herself within the repetitive haze of the last week. 6:45am; why hadn't her alarm gone off?

Ah, Sunday, with a stalling case. They'd decided on a sleep in with a ten o'clock start. Castle was flying to Miami.

Castle.

Castle at the Old Haunt with hands that never stopped moving, and a mouth that never stopped smiling, and eyes that never stopped looking... at her.

All thoughts of a lazy morning in bed deserted her. Instead, Beckett untangled herself from the sheets and headed straight to her dresser. Digging through it she chose a pair of sweats and sports shirt and took them into the bathroom. Leaning against the vanity basin Beckett gave herself a stern look in the mirror. When that talking-to didn't seem to work she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, brushed her teeth, and got ready to run.

###

Sunday morning was busy with joggers and cyclists, and Beckett chose to run south along the Greenway. Her body might have needed the adrenaline release of a hard run but, from previous experience, the detective knew she'd find more peace this morning from a mid-run rest stop along Battery Park and the marina. Early morning by the water offered a clarity not easily found in the maze of high-rises and office towers.

Losing herself in the rhythm of pounding feet and measured breaths Beckett allowed her mind free reign; to skitter across the case (high school teacher was a long way from CIA operative), the fun of the previous evening (don't think about Castle), the new bottle of scotch they'd shared (she'd have to remember to ask what that was), she was out of muesli (a quick stop at the bodega on her way home), the jogger in front had some very comfortable looking footwear (she really needed new joggers), was that silent movie still playing at the Angelika? (Castle would know- stop thinking about Castle)...

She began to measure her paces as she came around the bend of the park and scoped out a promising length of railing overlooking the marina. Coming to a stop Beckett gripped the cold metal barrier and pressed against it; working out her calves and supporting her weight with her arms to rest her legs. Deciding to walk a-ways she pulled out her phone and checked the time. Castle would have left for the airport by now. Alexis would be up. She typed out a quick text;

**Hi, Alexis, did you have plans for lunch?**

The girl's reply came back almost immediately, and Beckett stepped to the edge of the causeway so as not to get in the way of her fellow joggers while she read,

**No plans. R U free? Dad said U are working today. Lunch would be wonderful.**

**I will be working; I have a meeting with the victim's family this morning, but lunch later would be a nice break.**

With her back to the city Beckett leaned against the bricked base of an old lamp post and watched the yachts bob up and down with the surge of the water while she waited to finish their conversation.

**I'd like that. I'll come 2 U. What time?**

**Around 1:00. I'll text later and let you know where to meet.**

**C U then.**

Pocketing her phone, and feeling good about the day, Beckett turned around and headed back towards the Greenway and home.

###

Ryan joined her in the break room for the interview with Skip Cordon. The elderly man's daughter sat beside him and held his hand as they discussed what little the detective's knew of the events surrounding their relative's death.

"Rod was going to come spend Christmas with us –"

"Christmas before last, in 2010," his daughter interrupted.

"That's right. But after Eric's wife passed away, and Eric's step-son was giving him some grief, so decided to stay in the city with him."

"Giving him some grief, in what way?"

"It was ridiculous, and Uncle Rod didn't get involved anyway, Eric loved Donna and when she got sick he was heartbroken. Her son was angry at the world and he had to blame someone for her dying so he blamed Eric. Uncle Rod knew what it was like to lose someone that meant the world to you, so they stuck by each other for a while."

"And you haven't seen him since before then?" Beckett asked gently.

"Not because we didn't want to; but Rod and I, we don't travel so much these days," the elderly gentleman said with a wry smile.

"Dad and I both spoke to Uncle Rod after Christmas, and Dad said he phoned again a few weeks later but just to say hello; he didn't mention there were any problems," Emily paused and sought out Detective Beckett's eyes, "Eric said that he'd been arrested...?"

"No, the initial reports we had suggested Eric might have been involved, but we can assure you that our current line of investigation does not involve him at all," Beckett sought to reassure them.

The two guests exchanged a look of relief and Emily bought her other hand up to rest on her father's arm in support.

Ryan gave them a moment before he spoke, "Can you think of anyone that your brother may have had problems with? A largish man, perhaps?"

"No. We spoke about this on the way down, and my uncle wasn't really a person that someone would have problems with; he had friends, of course, but he didn't get out much," Emily answered for her father.

"The only thing in the past year that Rod had seemed upset about was an old colleague that wanted a reference from him, and Rod felt he had nothing positive to say about the man."

"Do you know the man's name?"

"No, but he was a teacher in the math department at Rod's school."

"How involved was Mr Cordon in the school?"

"Not very over the last couple of years, but he didn't retire until he was seventy, and even then he still volunteered a couple of days a week. He was on the board up until a few years ago."

The two detectives shared a look; this was an area they hadn't investigated.

###

Another hour of phone calls, computer searches, and paper shuffling and the detectives had the name of the disgruntled school teacher as well as a list of school board members that had worked closely with Rodney Cordon and may have remained in contact more recently.

Esposito bought up an image of Pat Kingston and skimmed through the information on screen, "DMV has his height at six-two. That doesn't rule him out."

"Okay, Ryan, can you keep digging through this? See if we can find evidence of conflict or an increase in contact with anyone on this list? Esposito and I will pay a visit to Mr Kingston and see where he was on Thursday afternoon."

"You got it." Ryan had his eyes glued to his computer screen before his teammates even had their coats in hand.

Beckett pressed the call button for the elevator and dug her car keys and her phone out of her pocket. She passed the keys to Esposito, and he looked at her in surprise.

"I'm driving?"

"Yeah, why?"

The Latino detective smirked, "Just wait 'til I tell Castle that you let me drive."

"Yeah, Espo, real mature; it's a police car, you're the police."

"Still, a man's gotta feel a little special."

The elevator door closed around them and Beckett did her best to ignore her fellow detective while cursing the fact that every thought and conversation turned back to Castle; even 1300 miles away he still made her smile.

###

Beckett used the fifteen minute car ride to text Alexis.

**I'm really sorry to cancel again but we just got a new lead on the case. I'm headed uptown and I'm not sure if we'll be breaking for lunch.**

While she waited for a reply Beckett read through the printout Esposito had made with the results of their brief database search on Pat Kingston. There wasn't much; he had no criminal record – always a positive sign for a school teacher, Beckett thought – fifty-eight years old, married, and had lived in Hamilton Heights for thirty years.

Her phone buzzed in her lap and Beckett read the response.

**That's ok. I'll probably head into the village later anyway. Call me if U have time.**

Time. Becket sighed; she knew how important it was to make time.

"Castle getting his freak on with the famous people, yet?" Esposito asked.

"How should I know?"

"Isn't that our boy on the phone?"

"No." The reply was abrupt.

"Okay, then." Esposito took the hint, and the remainder of the drive was in silence.

###

The drive back to the station was a whole different kind of noise level as the two detectives fought their frustration.

"Billions of dollars on national crime registrars, online health records, and my Fourth Amendment rights being violated and still the DMV doesn't bother to update its records to let us know our man's in a wheelchair," Esposito grumbled from the passenger side.

"Well, look at it this way; we got to go for a nice Sunday drive uptown. Ryan's been stuck in the precinct all day fighting off Gates."

"True. Hey, can I get some tunes in here?"

"Knock yourself out.

"He seemed cut up though, about Cordon being dead," Esposito mused, while he fiddled with the station controls. Castle was always fiddling with the station controls.

"Nowhere we turn in this investigation gives us any suggestion that Mr Cordon would have been a target for murder."

"You thinking robbery gone wrong?"

"I hate to write it up like that, but unless we find something today we might have to."

"We need Castle with some crazy CIA cover-up angle to chase down," Esposito said with a grin.

Beckett ignored him and tightened her hands on the wheel.

###

Ryan placed a coffee on the corner of her desk just as her phone buzzed. Beckett reached for the espresso with her left hand and clicked open the text message with her right. Castle. The slow expanse of her lungs was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

**Alexis said you caught a break.**

**Didn't pan out. We're back to nothing with Gates complaining about man-hours. **

She'd only just placed the phone back on her desk when it rang. She didn't need to look at the caller ID, "How are things in sunny Miami?"

"They could be sunnier," was his immediate reply, "You're going to like the surprise I got for you!"

His enthusiasm had her fighting a smile, "Castle, if you tell me about it it's not going to be a surprise."

"True," he replied, cheerfully.

Beckett could hear a bustle of voices and other noise in the background, "Sounds busy there."

"It has been, there's quite the turn-out. Hey, you might even see me on tv!"

"I'll be sure to TiVo it," she teased.

"Oh, and Katherine Paterson is here! We're meeting up later..." Beckett heard a woman's voice calling him in the background and she tried to remember if James Patterson had a daughter and how old she'd be. Castle's voice interrupted her thoughts, "Oh, my turn again for the panel. I'll call you later?"

"Sure. Have fun," she ended the call not sure if she were glad to have heard from him or not. Picking up a pen she scribbled meaningless shapes on her notepad, and then reached for her coffee.

Ryan and Esposito had paused in their work and stood watching their boss.

"Awwww, that's sweet. Dad's been away for eight hours and he's checking in."

"Good thing, too. She was starting to get a little grouchy in the car; I think she misses him."

They exchanged mock-sappy looks and fed the birds, and then returned to a long afternoon of paperwork.

###

"Yo, Beckett!" Esposito spoke softly but in the stillness of the precinct he was easily heard.

She tore her attention away from the murder board and looked at her team-mate. He flicked his eyes towards the corridor and its lone occupant.

"Alexis!" Beckett couldn't help the surprise in her voice, "Is everything okay?" The usually confident young woman looked uncertain and her nervousness set off a cascade in Beckett's stomach.

Alexis must have caught her worry and was quick to offer an explanation, "Everything's fine. It just sounded like you'd all had a long day and so I bought refreshments." Her voice carried to the next desk and she made sure to include Ryan and Esposito in the conversation even though she dropped the bags of takeout on Beckett's desk.

"Little Castle!" Javier said, sounding almost proud. He and his partner left their work eagerly and came to crowd around Alexis. "I'd kiss you, but there'd be a whole line of people I'd have to answer to," he joked.

His jest must have been enough to reassure her that her presence was not unwelcome, and Beckett was glad to see her usual broad smile and oh-so-familiar twinkling eyes.

"I'll get sodas," Ryan called and disappeared into the break room.

Beckett gestured to Castle's regular seat and said, "Do you have time to join us?"

Alexis looked uncertain again when she replied, "I do. But I was kinda hoping, well, it's just that I thought that if you were close to finishing for the night we could watch a movie, or... It's silly, I'm sorry, of course the case –"

Esposito made himself scarce and gave the two girls a chance to talk.

"No, Alexis, it's fine. We didn't get a chance to have dinner on Thursday, and then I had to cancel lunch; I was disappointed too." Beckett was surprised by how easy it was to admit, "We're really not making a whole lot of progress here anyway."

Looking up at Ryan and Esposito as they hovered outside the break-room door she gestured them over, "Why don't we leave this for the boys, they missed out on lunch today, and you and I head home and order something in and watch a movie?"

"Really?" The girl was as easy to please as her father.

"Sure. Just give me five minutes to finish up here and we'll get going. Do you need to let Martha know where you are?"

"No, she got stuck at the studio tonight, one of the leads broke a leg and the understudy's just not up to speed yet."

"And they say breaking a leg is good luck."

"Not so much."

###

Kate took Alexis' jacket and hung it alongside her own in the closet. "Help yourself to something to drink, I'm just going to run upstairs and shower really quickly. I feel like I've been in these clothes for a week. "

"I'm fine, I'll just wait," Alexis replied, coming to a stop at the edge of the kitchen.

"I completely forgot that you haven't been here before."

"It's beautiful, Kate. The light and the warmth; it's very 'you'."

"Have a poke around. I'll be really quick," she assured her and stepped up to her bedroom. She paused at the landing and said, "If the delivery guy gets here just call out, don't answer it, okay?"

Alexis nodded solemnly and turned back to admiring the apartment.

Kate's voice called down to her again, "If you want something to do you could get the computer from the study and set it up on the coffee table?" she suggested, hoping that giving the teenager a reason to wander around the apartment would make her feel more at home, "I'm not as big a movie watcher as you and your Dad, I usually just download them from iTunes and watch them on the computer."

"I can do that. Dad's always been a big kid when it comes to his movie collection." They shared a smile, and Kate retreated to her bedroom.

###

When Kate came back downstairs Alexis had the large computer monitor set up on the coffee table and several plush cushions placed side-by side-on the rug.

"Is this okay?"

"Perfect, did you check out the movies I have?"

"No. I didn't turn it on."

"Go ahead."

"You're sure?"

Kate laughed, "Have you been scarred previously while digging around on your father's computer?" She moved around the kitchen collecting glasses and cutlery.

Alexis started to laugh and Kate could tell she was remembering something, and then her face stilled, "Oh, you mean..., no, nothing like that. Dad wouldn't have anything on his computer that he wouldn't want me to see," Alexis said seriously.

Kate was not sure if she was defending her father or reassuring Kate of his character, "I know, Alexis. I only meant it as a joke. I know the kind of man your father is."

"It's just that I know how strongly you value your privacy."

Kate stilled, troubled by the realisation that her fear of letting anyone close –her fear of being made vulnerable –had inadvertently caused Alexis to keep her distance. She covered her unease by getting a bottle of juice out of the fridge and placing it on the counter. With her hand wrapped around the cold neck of the bottle she took a small step towards remedying that distance.

"I value it too much, sometimes," Kate looked across the room at her partner's daughter. Her red hair shone under the lights and her expression was one of open concern. "Or maybe it's just that it's become habit and being open with people takes a conscious decision; a determination to let them see me."

Alexis took several slow steps across the hardwood floor, "You're afraid of being hurt," she said quietly. Kate didn't know if the young woman fully understood the accuracy of that statement or if she'd just overheard a conversation on the subject. When she spoke again Kate knew she understood at least a little of what she were asking, "Your mom? Or did you love someone you shouldn't have?"

Kate almost smiled, "My mom, initially, but I suppose the relationships I've had since have done nothing to heal that hurt."

Alexis stood on the opposite side of the hob, her clear blue eyes far too guileless to be able to hide her thoughts.

Kate fortified herself for the question she knew was coming.

"Do you think –" A loud knock on the door cut Alexis off, and made Beckett jump.

"Dinner," she said unnecessarily and, with an apologetic half-smile, headed to the door.

Alexis had poured two glass of juice and carried them over to the lounge by the time Beckett crossed the room with their take-out. They choose a cushion each and shuffled around to get comfortable with their backs against the couch and their legs alongside each other under the coffee table.

"If you want to set the food out I'll find us something to watch," Kate suggested. She could feel the girl's discomfort and debated returning to their conversation, but she didn't know how to answer any questions Alexis might have about the relationship she and Castle shared. Kate had a hard enough time trying to understand herself how she felt let alone how to explain it to a seventeen year old.

So she did the one thing she was never brave enough to do with Castle; she reached out and took his daughter's hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

###

They'd both relocated to the couch sometime during the movie; Kate sitting in the corner with her feet extending over the footrest, and Alexis spread out along the length of the couch with her head resting on a cushion a few inches from Beckett's knee.

Kate had found it surprisingly relaxing, and as the credits rolled over the screen she looked down at the motionless body draped beside her, "Hey," she whispered.

Alexis looked up immediately.

"I didn't know if you were asleep."

"No, I'm awake, just... still caught in the movie I suppose. That was beautiful; I can't believe I haven't seen it before."

"Probably too old for you to have seen with your friends, and not quite werewolves and zombies. "

"True, but then Dad's no stranger to chick-flicks either."

Kate smiled, "That doesn't surprise me."

Alexis drew her knees up and shuffled on the couch so that she was still reclining but better able to see Kate when she spoke.

"It is nicer though to watch a chick-flick with another chick rather than with your Dad. We went to the movie theatre together once and he covered my eyes during the _very_ tame sex scene and then ended up crying for half the movie when the girl lost the guy. It was humiliating."

Kate laughed out loud at the image, "You can't trade those kinds of priceless memories," she said jokingly, still chuckling. "I need nights like these too; it can get old being surrounded by the boys all day at the precinct."

"I'm going to miss having the chance for things like this when I go to college. I suppose I should be glad for not getting in early. I get to be around here for a little longer, especially now that Ashley and I are over..."

"Going off to college with a little more experience beyond school isn't a bad thing."

"I can see that now. It just hurt in the beginning, you know?"

"I do, but a lot of things that hurt at the time turn out to be for the best; something better is around the corner."

"I hope so. Plus, it's been nice to have a little more time with everyone. If I'd left when I planned to I would have missed out on so much here. Grams and Dad are both so much happier lately. Grams with her acting school, and Dad, well, Dad's just happy. And I would have missed out on this with you."

"I'm glad you stuck around, too."

"I know family can be messy," Alexis looked up at Kate and shared an amused grin, "maybe from the outside we might seem a little odd, with Grams living with us and Dad never having known his father, and me with my mother so absent... but really, I have the most amazing family; they've always been everything needed."

"Mmmm, I can see that there are times when you must have hurt for not having your mother closer, but I agree; the kind of relationship you have with your family is something special. Sometimes I look at you and Castle together and..."

"And what?" Alexis sat up on the couch. Leaning sideways to face Kate, she folded her legs underneath herself and leaned into the cushions.

Kate felt the weight of her gaze. "I don't know how to explain it; I had a wonderful childhood and I was very close with both my parents; but there is such warmth and joy in the bond I see between you and Castle. It's something special to simple witness, let alone..."

"Be a part of." Alexis finished in a whisper, her blue eyes shining with gathering tears.

Kate didn't answer immediately. Her first instinct was to close herself off –walk away –but the girl in front of her didn't deserve to be weighed down with the baggage of her past. "That's presumptuous of me."

"No, it's not. I know what family is."

Kate wasn't sure how to interpret her comment so she let it go.

Alexis, now that she'd started, seemed determined to make her point, "I see some of the families at school and the hurt that the kids suffer because their parents can't get it right. It gives me so much respect for the choices Grams and my Dad have made, and still make, when it comes to loving me. They don't let many people in."

"Neither of them would do anything to hurt you. They'd always put you first."

"It's a nice feeling; and it works both ways even if it's not always practical. The best way to make someone suffer is to hurt the people they love. You can't always guard against that, but you can love fiercely when you get the chance. Dad told me that not so long ago."

Beckett stiffened suddenly, "the best way to make someone suffer is to hurt the people they love," she repeated.

"I'm sorry," Alexis backpedalled, "I just meant that I agree; you can't not care about someone because you're afraid someone might get hurt. It's the love that's the important part. Isn't it?" she said nervously.

"No, Alexis, I agree," she said, even though she wasn't sure she did agree, "You just made me think of something for the case we're working on. We can't find any reason at all why our victim would have been targeted but what if someone killed him to make someone who loved him suffer?"

"You know, you get the same look on your face that Dad gets when I hand him the key to solving one of your cases."

"You come up with these pearls of wisdom frequently?"

"All the time. Do you need to head into work? I should head home, anyway."

"Now?" Beckett thought for an instant that she probably should call it in, but she had someone she wanted to make time to be with, "No, I'll check it out in the morning

"Really? Dad always flies out the door with his cell phone to his ear."

"There is a bit of a buzz when the pieces finally fit together," she admitted, "It's already late and I'd feel better if you stayed here the night, did you need to head home?"

"I don't need to. I should call Grams and let her know...and I don't have any of my things here."

"I can get you something to sleep in. I only have the one bathroom, if you don't mind sharing you should find everything you need in the cabinets."

"I don't mind sharing."

"Come up and I'll show you where everything is. You can use the bathroom while I change the sheets."

"No, Kate, I couldn't take your bed. I'll sleep down here on the couch."

"I've got a little bit of work to do down here anyway. Plus, I make Castle sleep on the couch; you get to have the bed," she smiled.

"I'd tell him just to torture him, but I'm not sure it's the kind of conversation I want to have with my father."

Kate tried to hide her blush, and the two women laughed as they headed up the stairs together.

###

Turning off the lights in her apartment, Beckett moved quietly back to the couch and arranged herself under a pile of blankets. Her computer was still on, idle now on the NYPD search logo having been timed out following her quick request for information. She opened iTunes again and scrolled through her playlists until she found something she was in the mood for. With the music playing softly she lay on her back and drifted.

It had been a surprise how much she had enjoyed the evening. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had an old fashioned movie night on the couch with another woman that didn't involve a heap of shop-talk, dishing on the guys and complaints about their love life (or lack thereof).

She reached for her cell phone and glanced at the time; it wasn't too late.

She typed out a quick text;

**Alexis is spending the night at my apartment. We did movie night.**

**She messaged me earlier to let me know. She sounded excited. **

Beckett had only just read his reply when another text came through;

**Thank you.**

She smiled in the darkness. Her finger hovered briefly over the call button before she gave in. He answered immediately.

"You don't have to thank me. I had a good time," she said without introduction.

"I'm glad; and also a little nervous about the idea of you two together. "

"So you should be. You were definitely a topic of conversation."

"Ergh. I don't know who I'd have more luck pumping for information."

"You know you'll never get anything out of me."

"I wasn't aware NYPD training included methods to withstand torture?"

"I get a lot of practice."

"I'll just have to keep trying to wear you down, then."

Beckett paused for only a moment, "You never know your luck. There's only so much torture a person can endure."

Castle was silent on the other end of the line.

"I discovered your secret weapon," Beckett said lightly, not giving him too long to think.

"What secret weapon?"

"Alexis may have handed out a clue to solving this case we've been stuck on; at least another good line of investigation."

"She has a habit of doing that."

"So she said; and all this time I thought it was your insights that were helping to solve our cases. Do I need to upgrade Castle models?" she teased.

"Not a chance. You'd miss my morning coffees."

She really would. "So, how'd your event go tonight?"

"It went well. You'd think with all these writer-y types there might be a bit too much ego in the room, but everyone was a lot of fun. The kids' book list they're going to have for next year is pretty impressive."

"Don't tell me a bunch of school kids are going to looking at a naked silhouette of Nikki Heat."

"Whatever it takes to get kids reading," Castle joked, "Nah, Patterson is expanding the program's teen section and I've donated a bunch of the Derrick Storm graphic novels; but he really just wanted me here for my money."

Beckett laughed gently, "We all give where we can."

"If I'd known it would be so much fun I'd have gone last time he asked. Hey, you should come to the next one. They've got a pool."

She could picture his exaggerated leer even without being in the same room. "Are you still trying to get me into a swimsuit again, Castle?"

"Statistically speaking; one of these days you'll say yes."

"You a fan of the odds?" the smile in her voice was clear.

"Always," he kept his tone light; but, even said casually, she felt it.

Beckett breathed in slowly and closed her eyes, "I'll probably talk to you tomorrow, Castle."

"Let me know how the case goes."

"I will. Have a nice night."

"Until tomorrow, Kate."

Beckett held the phone against her ear for a moment longer. She couldn't hear him at all, but the line was still active; he wasn't hanging up. The moment drew out and the peaceful contentment their conversation had graced her with was slowly replaced by a fluttering in her belly.

Before the silence could be broken she forced herself to end the call. There wasn't anything else to say, after all; except, perhaps, until tomorrow.

Beckett fell asleep with an image in her mind of Castle; curled in an unfamiliar bed, his phone still in his hand –much like her.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**Reviews would help sustain me... seeing as I haven't cooked a proper meal in the week since I started writing this and if it wasn't for the fact that i now spend all my spare time sitting on my arse writing i could quite possibly waste away to a shadow :)**


	10. Chapter 10

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 10<p>

Kate moved quietly about the kitchen. She started the coffee and debated whether she should cook up some pancakes or scrambled eggs for her guest, or just stick with her usual muesli or fruit and yoghurt.

Castle always seemed big on breakfast. She stood with the fridge door open; pondering.

"Dad and I do that all the time. Do _you_ think it's the light?" Alexis asked on her way down the stairs.

"Good morning! I don't know what it is. I keep looking in here hoping something magically appears. I thought I could make pancakes, or scrambled eggs, but I don't think I have any eggs."

Alexis giggled, "I'm fine with toast, or cereal, whatever you have."

"No toast. But I have cornflakes or muesli."

"Either is fine," Alexis leaned a hip against the counter.

Kate got the muesli and two bowls out. She paused at the cabinet, "Do you want coffee or juice?"

"I can get the juice," Alexis said, heading to the fridge as Kate got her a glass.

"You sleep ok?"

"Definitely! Your bed is _very_ comfy."

"I know. I splurged on a couple of things after my old apartment blew up. The bed was one of them. Now I just need more time off to laze around in it." Kate poured the milk and grabbed spoons. She gestured towards the dining table, "Grab a seat."

"I've got mine," Alexis said instead, and helped to carry their breakfast across the open living space to the dining area. "What time are you going in to work this morning?"

"I'll have to head in straight after breakfast, if that's okay? Hey, what do you think Castle would say to me giving you a lift on my motorcycle?"

"Really? That would be just amazing." Alexis' face lit up. "I say we don't tell Dad until after the fact." Her mischievous grin was infectious.

"You just have to promise me that when you do tell him you ask for a Harley, and maybe let slip that you're considering a tattoo." Beckett knew Alexis had had no problems on her vespa. She also knew Castle would trust her with his daughter. It didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun with him and his paranoia when it came to Alexis' latent wild-child phase.

The girl's face was studiously contemplative, one finger resting on the side of her cheek, "I might also need a set of leathers to match yours." Her mouth twitched into a smile.

"Now you've got the idea."

They toasted with their coffee and juice.

###

Beckett piled her jacket and helmets on Castle's chair; it was going to be otherwise empty for the day anyway, and then came around her desk to turn on her computer.

She looked around for signs of Ryan and Esposito and, seeing their computers on and chairs pulled out, she headed to the break room.

They stood together at the espresso machine. Ryan held sugar and stirrers waiting impatiently for his partner to finish with the froth.

"Morning," Beckett called, walking over to join them.

"Hey, Beckett. You want one?" Esposito asked.

"That'd be great."

"Morning coffee without Castle; however will you cope?" Espo was aiming for smug but the way the corner of his mouth lifted ruined the effect.

"I've already had coffee with Castle this morning." Beckett got her own self-satisfied smile down just fine.

The boys spoke at the same time, "What? When? I thought he was out of town?"

"He come back early?"

Beckett remained silent and held her mug out.

"Nah, man, she's just playing with us," Espo said to Ryan. He poured the steamed milk into two cups. "For that, you can make your own coffee."

Beckett ignored him; she could make her own coffee just fine.

###

Back at their desks, games over, Beckett pulled up the results of the preliminary searches she'd initiated last night. She forwarded them to her team-mates and started scrolling.

"You get anything on Junior's step-son in your interviews with the residents?" she asked after several minutes, "Matthew Cruz?"

"Ah, who mentioned him?" Esposito mused out loud and grabbed for his notebook, "It was only in passing... here it is; Mrs Connors in 1B said the step-son had come round banging on the front door, yelling and making a scene. That was after the death of his mother, Junior's wife, so that makes it over a year ago." He put the notebook back on his desk and looked up, "Why, you got something that points to him?"

"Not yet; just a thought. What if Rodney Cordon was the _target_, but Eric, his son, was the intended victim?"

"In what way?" Ryan asked, his expression intent.

"Everything we have has pointed to a planned attack. But we can't find anything to suggest that anyone had a reason to want him dead. The only point of conflict in his life was centred on his son, and his relationship with his wife's kid."

"You think the step-son had a grudge against Cordon Senior?"

"We should look into that as well, but with the law suit over the will and the abusive phone calls at work..." Beckett pushed up from her chair and leaned on her desk facing her teammates, "Maybe the son, already angry over his mother's remarriage, becomes resentful of Cordon –over either the amount of time or money she's spending with her new husband – and then she gets sick, and suddenly she wants nothing more than to be with the new love in her life," Beckett's hands mapped out the progress of her story.

"She dies; and in her will leaves her estate to Cordon –the son misses out again."

Beckett had the full attention of both men, "In his grief the son blames Eric, and so in revenge he kills Eric's father. The perfect way to make him suffer the same way he still suffers –with the loss of his parent."

The boys were quiet for a moment at the end of her story. "Maybe she really did have breakfast with Castle, man," Ryan spoke to Esposito.

"You both realise we managed to solve crimes just fine before Castle turned up, right?" Beckett retorted.

"Yeah, but you never spun such great tales full of conjecture and speculation before. I like it."

"We got anything that could link him to the scene?" Ryan asked, more helpfully.

"I pulled DMV and criminal history last night. Fits the size requirements Lanie gave us. No record though, so I don't have prints. He has a brown Honda Civic registered to him so might be worthwhile having another look at the video we got from the jewellers to see if he shows on it." Beckett suggested.

"I can call Junior's office again and get some more on the harassing phone calls they said he was getting. Maybe they keep that sort of stuff on record?" Esposito started making notes.

"And see if the lawyer that handled the will has anything to say," Ryan added.

"If you two want to follow-up on your previous interviews I'll dig through the video and paperwork."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Deal." Both Ryan and Esposito picked their phones up to start calling, before she changed her mind.

###

The murderboard held a photo of Matthew Cruz, and Beckett had put a call in for a subpoena to access his phone records, before lunchtime.

Ryan and Esposito had some success at Rodney Cordon's apartment when they showed a photograph of their new suspect around with one tenant confirming that he'd been seen last week buzzing, unsuccessfully, to get into Rodney Cordon's apartment.

Eric Cordon's workmates, when asked, had several stories to relay regarding Matthew Cruz's animosity towards his mother's new husband.

It was enough to bring him in for questioning, but Beckett suspected that with a little more digging they'd have enough for a straight arrest; so they'd kept at it into the afternoon.

The remains of a chicken salad wrap sat forgotten next to Beckett's notepad as she focused on her computer screen. An email alert flashed onscreen and she glanced down to read the subject header; they had a go ahead for full phone and financials. Beckett returned her attention to the traffic light camera just in time to see a brown sedan cross the screen. She backed it up and zoomed in on the licence plate.

Bingo.

Isolating the frame she sent it to the printer and then opened her email. Less than five minutes later she sent out text messages to Ryan and Esposito.

**How far away are you? We have him on camera a block away from the apartment. I'm about to put a call in for a warrant.**

She grabbed her desk phone and dialled the D.A's office by memory; putting in a request to speak to a judge for a warrant-by-phone she left her badge number and contact details.

Her phone buzzed a reply from Ryan-

**We're 15 min from the 12th.**

Beckett debated phoning Cruz's employee and checking on his whereabouts; it could save them time and cut down the chances of him evading arrest if they could pinpoint his location, but they also took the risk of his boss not being very sympathetic towards the police and tipping their suspect off.

She decided to run it blind and have uniforms waiting at his unit while the detectives confronted him at work.

She bought up the details of his home and work addresses and put in a call to dispatch for support.

When she'd done all she could she leaned back in her chair and stared at her cell phone. Her fingertip tapped out a staccato rhythm on the corner of her desk and she worried at her lower lip with her teeth.

Beckett checked the time on her father's watch; he wasn't meeting his buddies until 6pm for drinks and his afternoon was supposed to be clear. He'd be curious about the case...

With an eye-roll at her own indecision she grabbed her cell.

**We might have our guy. Waiting on warrants. Alexis may well replace you yet.**

Her phone buzzed with a reply half a minute later; he must be bored.

**Who's going with you for the arrest?**

Beckett read his reply and paused for a moment. Serious Castle didn't often make an appearance but when he did she felt, again, the weight of all they'd been through together. She struggled with a reply; wanting both to reassure him but not to make him think she took his concern lightly.

**I'm waiting on the boys and we'll have support from local uniforms. No reason to think our guy's hostile. **

She waited for his response with her cell phone in her hand.

**Call me when you're done. I have photos to send you but would hate to make your phone vibrate at an inopportune time ;)**

Beckett smiled.

It was a perfect way to say "be safe" and "I'll be waiting to hear from you" without having to say the words at all. Even better; she knew that he knew she'd be smiling, and so there wasn't even a need for her to reply.

###

The three detectives took two cars to the hardware store where Cruz worked. The cars separated a block away and Ryan and Esposito took the shop's rear exit. Beckett noticed a police scooter parked several doors up from the hardware store and slowed down. The officer stood at the corner of a bakery, leaning against the wall with a bright blue-iced cupcake. The alleyway beside him was, unusually, clear and Beckett indicated and came to a stop a car length before reaching it.

The officer took a large bite of the cupcake and threw the rest in the bin. He jogged to the rear of Beckett's cruiser and took up a position on the road to force the other vehicles around him. Checking her mirrors Beckett continued forward just enough to give her room to swing backwards into the alley –nose out; ready for a quick getaway just in case.

Beckett grabbed her vest out of the rear of the car and, after securing the vehicle, she moved to greet her backup.

He offered his hand and said, "Jenkins."

"Beckett. Any movement?" She got straight down to business.

"Not really. But I haven't been inside." It took less than a minute to fit the vest over her shirt and she scanned the street and shopfront while the patrolman spoke.

"Okay. I have my guys headed around back, " Beckett's phone vibrated in her pocket, "hang on," she said to the officer, and took out her cell.

"Hey, boss. Rear door is unlocked. Not much visibility through the window but it looks like it opens onto a lunch room or kitchenette."

"I'm ready to go in. I'll have an officer on the door. On three?"

"On three," he acknowledged. They both ended the call.

Beckett had her hand on the door as she checked her coat to make sure her gun was clear. A buzzer sounded faintly as they crossed the entryway. The officer moved to one side and Beckett continued towards the middle aged man behind the counter.

"Afternoon, can I help you?" he asked politely with a slight Irish accent.

With her eyes scanning the store area the detective palmed her badge with her left hand and held it out to the storekeeper, "Is Matthew Cruz here at the moment?"

He hesitated for a moment and his eyes moved from the badge in her hand to the curtain at the rear.

"Is he back there?" She had her badge back in her pocket and her body angled to present a smaller angle to the man on instinct.

"He is. Is something wrong?"

"Just stay behind the counter, please, sir," Beckett glanced back at the officer by the door and nodded towards the curtain.

She stood to one side and focused her hearing to the back of the store; she could hear movement but nothing that sounded immediately threatening. A quick glance at the items on sale though made her aware of the variety of improvised weapons he could potentially have access to in a hardware store.

A sudden call of, "Hey, you can't be back here!" followed by, "NYPD, Matthew Cruz?" told her that Ryan had been spotted.

Beckett pushed steadily through the curtain, careful not to spook their suspect. She flicked her glock free of her holster, and felt the reassuring weight of it in her hand. Keeping her hand low against her leg she didn't raise her weapon, instead she waited for Ryan to take the lead.

Cruz looked back and forth between the two unexpected threats, "I'm Matthew Cruz," he said slowly. The DMV photo they had looked like it had been taken twenty pounds ago.

He held a cardboard box in one hand against his chest. A series of shelf displays were aligned on the floor at his feet. It looked like he'd been sorting scouring sponges. Beckett had a sudden thought that sponges were quite possible the worst thing imaginable for a bad-guy to have on hand when interrupted by the police- for the bad-guy, anyway.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions in relation to the stabbing murder of Rodney Cordon." Ryan's voice was composed; by the book.

The detectives both saw it in his eyes the minute he decided to make a run for it.

He threw the half-empty box of scourers at Ryan, added another carton that his wildly swinging arm managed to catch and haul, and then lunged towards Beckett. He bent low and aimed for her stomach with his shoulder; classic linebacker's tackle.

Beckett relaxed her body and stepped back with the tackle. With her free hand she grabbed for his elbow, twisted up, and turned her own body sideways to use his momentum to flip him. It mostly worked. He stumbled badly and one knee hit the floor. Beckett was driven backwards into a rack of shelving and felt the air leave her lungs. It took her only a moment to get clear and she took a step sideways to aim her weapon as Ryan came from behind and pushed him to the ground to cuff him.

The detectives exchanged brief nods; 'All good'. Esposito jogged up to join his partner.

"Hey, girl, I thought you said we were just going to talk to him?" he teased. Then he reached down and hauled the man, all 275 pounds of him, off the ground and started on his Miranda warning

With his hand firmly planted at the suspect's back Esposito used his own muscle to usher him out. Ryan was two steps ahead, his body angled to keep his partner in his line of sight as they headed to their vehicle. Beckett followed them and waited while Cruz was loaded in the back before she turned and walked back through the store.

The patrol officer held the curtain aside for her as she walked through, "All set?"

"Yeah. We've got him en route back to the 12th. Thanks for the backup."

"Anytime."

After offering a quick apology to the store manager they went their separate ways outside.

Beckett waited until she was back in the car before grabbing her phone and sending a quick text.

**I'm waiting for those photos.**

###

Beckett was already at her desk sorting through the information they had on the case when Ryan and Esposito walked into the bullpen.

"He being processed?"

"Yep. The man's a tool."

"What did you expect?" she shrugged one shoulder, "he works in a hardware store."

"Funny, Beckett."

"He ask for a lawyer?"

"Nope, they'll run him through prints and then bring him straight up while he's in the mood to talk."

"Let the tech guys know we need those prints matched asap."

"I'm on it," Ryan said moving to his desk.

The side doors pushed open and the three detectives turned to watch their suspect being ushered into the interrogation room.

Beckett crossed the hall and knocked on the window of Gate's office. As soon as her captain looked up she opened the door and leaned in, "Our suspect is in interrogation now. Looks like he's our guy if you want to listen in?"

"Thank you, Detective."

Gates picked up the phone on her desk, and Beckett left her to it. She flicked a glance to Esposito and, by silent agreement, the two of them headed into interrogation.

###

"I saw him, you know?"

"Saw who, Mr Cruz?"

"Eric. Sitting out the front of his place," he paused, enjoying the memory, "Just sitting; looks like he's having a real hard time."

Beckett didn't respond. She recognised the detached musings and knew direct questioning at this point would cause him to clam up.

Instead she redirected him back to the source of his pain, "Was anyone there for you when you were having a hard time?"

"You think I needed someone?" he asked scornfully.

"The sudden loss of a loved one... it can be hard to deal with."

"It's not the same as my mom. She was sick! He shoulda been there for her. He should have let _me_ be there for her!" his voice escalated and he stood up suddenly; his chair skittered backwards and fell noisily to the floor.

Esposito was on his feet in an instant. He said nothing, but Cruz met his glare and dropped his eyes.

"Sit down, Mr Cruz." Beckett's voice was firm.

No one moved to help him with his chair and so he gripped either side of the wooden frame with his cuffed hands and righted it himself. He plonked loudly back in his seat.

Now they were getting somewhere.

"Did you stab Rodney Cordon?" Beckett asked, direct now.

"Why would I? I had nothing against the old guy."

"You had something against his son, though, didn't you?"

His laugh came as a series of exhalations through his nose, his mouth curled upwards in a sneer. "Yeah, I had something against his son. I'd say we're even now."

"You evened things up?"

"I finally did. I think Mom would understand, too. She always did say it wasn't right the Lord made some people suffer and not others. It never was right that he had my mother all to himself when they knew she was dying. He'll know now how I felt when she died," he nodded quietly to himself, his head a constant bobbing motion. "Yeah, she'd know I had to make it fair."

The room was silent for a long moment. A gentle knock sounded at the door and Ryan eased it open.

"Prints on the murder weapon were confirmed as a match, and CSU called in; the search of Cruz's apartment turned up the stolen jewellery and shoes to match the prints found on-scene." Ryan waited only a moment to make sure there were no questions before he soundlessly closed the door.

###

Captain Gates found them gathered outside the breakroom ten minutes later.

"Where's Mr Cruz?" she asked.

"He's in with Mitchell from the D.A's office writing his confession."

"Nice work, everyone. Good to see some nice solid detective work from the three of you."

Beckett forced her face to immobility. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and the smile almost escaped; it was as if Castle knew Gates was having a dig at him.

"Get the paperwork done and let's square this one away." With a decisive nod, and what might have been meant as an encouraging smile, Gates left them to close herself off in her office.

Beckett didn't waste any time checking her phone.

There were three photos; the first showing the hotel pool and a row of reclining deck chairs. A foot filled the bottom corner of the photo and Beckett wondered if Castle had lounged around poolside. Their stint in L.A. had been rather one-sided in the swimwear department.

The next photo was clearly taken by someone else and showed him in a line with four other people; writers judging by the books they held. She tapped the screen to zoom in on their face-splitting smiles. It looked like Castle was having a ball. She dragged her finger over the screen. Wow, if Castle was trying to convince her to tag along next time by toting out famous authors he was doing a good job.

The third photo came with a caption, "Derrick Storm isn't the only hero with his own graphic novel. I got this for you. Captain Amazing fights crime with three trusty sidekicks. You can be Captain Amazing if I can be Fluffy."

Beckett didn't even bother to fight the broad smile his message inspired. She forwarded the image to her work email account.

The smile reappeared several times over the next hour, despite the paperwork and phone calls to the victim's family. She knew he'd be waiting for a reaction and she had to force herself not to call him.

With the three detectives all collating the separate facets of their investigation they tidied up everything they had for the D.A. Solving the case and providing closure for the family might have been a large part of their motivation for the work they did; but making sure they had done everything necessary to see that the perpetrator faced justice was equally important.

"You coming out for a drink, Beckett?" Espo asked later as the boys made ready to leave.

"Not tonight. I'm heading home for a long bath and an even longer night's sleep."

"Will you be in tomorrow?"

"Maybe just for an hour to make sure Cruz is squared away. But we've all got two days off so I won't see _you _in here until Thursday."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Ryan agreed.

"Tell Castle we said hi, and_ we_ appreciated his help on the case even if the brass don't."

"If I'm talking to him I will."

"Yeah, right."

Beckett ignored the eye roll the other detectives shared, "Have a nice night."

She sat back on the edge of her desk and paused for a moment's recognition of the life that had been lost, and then started packing away the photos from the murderboard before wiping clean the notes they'd gathered over the last five days.

Once the board was bare she returned to her computer and called up the graphic Castle had sent her. She hit the print button and walked over to wait by the machine. The smile was back as Beckett held the printout up for a closer look.

With a magnetic clip she stuck it in the middle of the otherwise empty murderboard; a full moon silhouetting a city skyline with four crimefighting super-pets leaping over tall buildings –the title, 'Sidekicks.'

###

The bath was ridiculously full; the bubbles towered above the ledge in valleys and curved peaks. A dozen candles were lit around the room and their light reflected off the mirror and cast flickering shadows on the walls. Music drifted up from the living area; audible but not intrusive.

Kate sat her glass of wine on the vanity top; her phone and one of Castle's books already in place on a towel beside the bath. Stepping out of her robe she hung it on the hook behind the door and stepped into the bath with a sigh.

She eased herself down and watched the bubbles rise and spill over the edge. Kate lowered herself even further, until the water covered her chest and the bubbles tickled her chin. With eyes closed she soaked in silence for several minutes, allowing the heat of the water to invade her muscles.

Despite the soothing warmth of the water and the gentle guitar wafting up from downstairs Kate's mind wouldn't quiet. She was too aware of the phone within arm's reach and the call she wanted to make. She made herself wait another few minutes; annoyed by her own sense of neediness. She was a strong, confident, independent woman – she hated the sense of incompleteness she felt when he wasn't riding alongside her to a crime scene, or sitting at her desk sprouting ludicrous theories, or badgering her to join him for dinner or movie night or for drinks after a case; any excuse he could come up with to extend the amount of time they could legitimately spend together without them needing to talk about the reasons _why_ they wanted to spend time together.

No matter how long she lay there soaking she couldn't ignore how badly she wanted to pick up the phone. It was as if knowing he was so far away made her desperate to reach out and close the distance between them.

And she really wanted to hear his voice. She was pathetic.

Giving in she reached for the towel to dry her hand. Then, instead of the phone she picked up her wine and took a healthy sip. Passing the wineglass over the bubbles to her other hand, she found her phone and pulled up her contact list one-handed.

Her thumb hovered over his name for a moment; and then she leaned back and rested her head against the tiles and pressed the call button.

The phone rang several times and Kate felt disappointment curl in her belly. She'd known there was a good chance he'd still be out with his writer-pals. She was about to end the call when he picked up. His greeting was a loud, "Hang on! Don't hang up!" and Kate could hear a ruckus in the background.

He kept up a litany of, "I'm heading outside, don't hang up, I can't hear anything you're saying over the unruly bunch in here..."

Kate smiled into her wine glass and waited.

There was a slight bang, and then a sudden silence, and then he breathed her name out in a sigh, "Kate."

"Hi, Castle." She wasn't sure why she hid her smile, but she turned her head and pressed the smooth curve of the wineglass against her nose.

"You got your man?"

Kate knew he was talking about the case, "We did; booked him this afternoon, finished up the paperwork before I came home."

"Ah, so Detective Beckett has the night off."

"Detective Beckett has two whole days off."

"Really? You have any plans?"

"No. I might hit The Met or head out of the city for a ride."

There was a moment's pause on the other end, and then Castle spoke again. "Patterson has hauled us all to this cabaret and comedy club he knows. Quite a crowd came from program launch and you've never seen so many middle-aged writers in a conga line before."

"I can imagine, are there cocktails with umbrellas?"

"There are, in fact I think I may have had one or two myself."

She laughed. It was just the sort of thing she could picture Castle doing, the kind of thing she'd like to allow herself to do more often; dancing and a show. "Lanie found a great club here that does an hour of comedy with a live band afterwards; sounded like it was a good show."

"That could be fun to check out."

"Yeah, it might be."

Castle was quiet again, and Beckett took another mouthful of wine.

"What are doing tonight?" he asked, eventually.

"Nothing. I'm just curled up on the couch with a glass of wine." It was close to the truth.

"No drinks with the team after closing the case?"

"Not tonight. I was keen to get home; it's been a long week and there was a bottle of sauvignon calling my name."

"That reminds me, what was that blend you found on 67s? I was checking out the photostream of one the guys here and we got to talking about wine auctions and I told him how good that case was you got."

"The organic one?"

"Yeah."

"I should open another bottle of that, it was good," Kate remembered the night they polished off two bottles at his loft, although Martha had helped. "Was it a 2010 from France?"

"Have a look, good finds like that need to be shared."

"What's left of the case is in the kitchen."

"And you're sooo far away!" Castle joked.

"I'll take a photo of the label and send it to you."

"That's okay, if you tell me the vineyard and blend I'll track it down."

"Castle," she almost whined, "Can I get it for you later?"

He paused on the other end, "Were you injured when you bought the guy in this afternoon?" he asked, concerned.

"No! No, Castle, I'm fine."

"Then why can't you get off the lounge?"

She sighed, "I'm not on the lounge," she couldn't help the hint of frustration in her voice.

"You said –" Castle sounded puzzled.

Kate knew what he was imagining when he uttered a remote, "Oh." Even over the phone she could feel him retreating, "If you're busy I can let you go."

"No, Castle," Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "I'm in the bath," she admitted reluctantly. The air eased out of her lungs into the silence that followed.

"Kaaaaate..." he drew her name out, his voice was teasing.

"Castle..." Kate hoped she sounded impatient with him, but she didn't think she managed it.

"You had all afternoon to call; and yet you waited until you were naked, most likely surrounded by bubbles and scented body oils, before calling."

"There are no body oils."

"Are there candles?"

Kate didn't answer. She wished she'd bought a larger glass of wine with her.

"Sounds romantic."

"It sounds relaxing." She couldn't help the edge of frustration that crept into her voice at being teased.

"I'm good with relaxing."

"Yeah, well, if you're done I'm gonna go and finish relaxing," she replied defensively. No matter how much she didn't want to end the call she felt suddenly far too exposed.

"I'm in Miami, Kate."

"I know you're in Miami," she answered. It came across sounding more like, 'what's your point?'

"1,300 miles is a pretty safe distance."

She wasn't sure how to reply, it didn't feel like a safe distance at all and yet, at the same time, it felt like much too far away. For a moment she regretted calling at all; she could have sent a brief text message, she didn't really even need to do that. It wasn't like there was any reason she had to check in of an evening; except she missed him and she wanted that small sense of connection of having shared something of their day.

The first tingling of tears made her angry and she sat up straighter in the bath; water splashed over the side, "Shit!"

"Look, Kate, forget it –"

"No, Castle, I didn't mean you. I just splashed water all over the floor."

"I should let you go; to clean up or... whatever you need to do."

If she hung up now Kate knew she'd spend the rest of the evening on edge; annoyed at herself for constantly erecting a barrier where one needn't exist. She wanted to get back to the solid ground of their friendship or to the quiver-inducing flirtation or light-hearted banter; her inability to deal with introspection and honesty made it clear she wasn't ready for anything more. And that thought alone was almost enough to break her.

Instead she leaned forward over her knees, her back cold and exposed now that the water was cooling, and tried to repair the damage. She closed her eyes before she spoke, "You need to get someone to take a photo of you in that conga line."

Castle saw the olive branch she was offering, "Should I be holding another pink fluffy drink with an umbrella?"

"Definitely," she smiled, relieved, and opened her eyes. The flickering light caught her attention immediately; the bath, the bubbles, the wine, the candles, and Castle's voice in her ear. It was exactly what she had looked forward to all afternoon.

"Castle –"

"Mmmm?"

"It might be a_ little_ bit romantic," she allowed.

"Suddenly that conga line is not sounding the least bit appealing," he kept his voice light.

Kate chuckled, "Go! I was serious; I want a photo."

"I want to hear more about your plans for the rest of the evening."

"My plans involve hanging up."

"Kill joy."

"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. I'll talk to you after your flight."

"Okay. Enjoy your bath, Detective," He drawled.

"Can't you just say 'Goodnight'?"

"Apparently not."

Beckett didn't wait for him to continue, she ended the call, dropped her phone on the folded towel, and leaned slowly back against the tiled wall. Her eyes slid closed and a peaceful smile lit her face.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**AN- Kate has two days off work! whatever will she do! ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks are still going to Madsthenerdygirl who is wasting her own potential writing time on my ramblings...**

* * *

><p>Keep Showing Up<br>Chapter 11

Beckett slept in late the next morning. Even after she woke she was happy to laze in bed for half an hour; her mind drifting. Finally her need for coffee (and to use the bathroom) dragged her from under the covers.

The melody from one of the songs she'd had on repeat the night before tugged at her. While the coffee brewed she grabbed her guitar and tried to capture the chords. She didn't quite have it, so she decided to delay breakfast and carried her coffee mug and guitar over to the sunlit couch and tweaked at it some more.

A crick in her neck finally pulled her away from the music. Over breakfast she debated between going for a run and doing an hour of yoga; the yoga won. She felt so good afterwards she slogged through five reps of a dozen crunches and pull-ups. Then she lay on her back and, puffing, stared at the ceiling for a good five minutes.

She had a quick shower, shaved her legs, washed her hair, put on a load of laundry, and then sat down with another coffee and made a grocery list. Half way through the grocery list she decided she was kidding herself and she sent a text to Lanie.

**Hey, Lanie. You working tonight?**

She added toothpaste, orange juice, and eggs to the list while she waited for a reply.

**Hey, girl! I'm hoping 2B out of here by 5. I've made plans for the night but can cancel if U need some girl time.**

Beckett's face wrinkled in disappointment.

**No, don't cancel your plans. I had nothing special in mind.**

With that plan crossed off her mental list of things to do to keep busy she opened the web browser on her phone and checked to see what was playing at the Angelika.

Lanie's reply came through mid-search.

**Don't tell me U got nothing planned for UR time off! U make me wanna smack U! I though writer boy was getting back today?**

**He is.**

She didn't bother going back to the Angelika's website. Now that Lanie was on her case she knew the next text wouldn't be far away.

**I give him 5min after he lands til he's on the phone to U. U might want to keep the evening free.**

**That's the whole point. I don't want to keep the evening free. I might catch a show somewhere instead.**

Her phone rang almost as soon as she hit send.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on."

"Girl, you've got five minutes to spill; I've got a body on the way."

"Lanie, nothing's going on. Not everything has to involve Castle."

"I can think of a few things that _should _involve Castle."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to head into the village, maybe see what's on at the Angelika."

"Why don't you come out with us?"

"Us who? You and Espo?" Kate cringed at the thought.

"Why not?"

"Talk about a third wheel!"

"Bring Castle."

"Not going to happen."

"Are you determined to make yourself miserable?"

"I'm going to let you get back to your dead body. "

"I'll call you later; we'll head out for drinks tomorrow night."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Lanie."

Kate didn't bother wasting any more time; she rinsed her coffee mug in the sink and headed upstairs to get ready to head out.

###

With no set plans Beckett found her feet carried her to the metro station. A few hours wandering through The Met suddenly seemed like the perfect way to spend the afternoon. Recalling her plan earlier in the week to see the exhibits with Alexis she debated asking the girl to join her; but spending the day with Alexis would only result in her spending the afternoon with Castle and that would disprove her theory that not everything had to involve Castle.

Getting off at 72nd St she took her time walking through Central Park. The sun was warm and Beckett took off her coat and pushed her sleeves up enjoying the feeling of freedom it gave her; simply strolling through the park without the weight of a murder to solve or conspiracies to uncover.

The hours spent wandering through the museum's vaulted chambers admiring brightly colourful North Indian art, puzzling over satirical sketches, and marvelling at the rich diversity of human creativity were almost successful in banishing thoughts of Rick Castle. Except that she laughed even more at the humour found in human expression knowing he would also appreciate the cartoons, and she paused at Bearden's tableau and wondered what Castle would make of the collection.

A glance at her watch told her that his plane would have landed nearly two hours ago and she couldn't help checking her phone to see if she'd missed a text. By the time her phone did ring, another hour later, she'd given up on the pretext of not wanting to see him.

"Hey, Beckett, you're not at the precinct?"

"I told you we had a couple of days off."

"Yeah, but to Detective Becket – workaholic – having a couple of days off and actually _taking_ a couple of days off is a different matter."

"I can do downtime with the best of them, Castle."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at The Met."

"Nice, did you see the guy with nose?"

Beckett laughed. Of the countless paintings and drawings his comment could have referred to she knew exactly which one he meant, "I did. I'm not surprised you liked that one." She caught the sound of Karpowski yelling in the background and asked, "Where are you?"

"I'm at the station."

"Why?"

"I was looking for you," he said as if it were obvious.

"Well you're looking in the wrong place."

"Clearly. Lanie said you had no plans for the night."

Beckett had to fight a groan, "When did you see Lanie?"

"I ran into her here while I was trying to hide from Gates. I don't think she likes me wandering the halls unescorted."

"I can see how that would make her nervous."

"Anyway, tonight, you should join us for dinner. I have something for you."

Beckett felt the composure she'd worked hard to achieve throughout the day deteriorating. She was working on a way to suggest lunch tomorrow instead when she found herself agreeing, "What time?"

"Anytime. Come over when you're done uptown if you like."

Beckett weighed her options; going straight there meant more time having to remind herself why hanging out at his loft was a bad idea, going home first meant she'd end up with six outfits laid out on the bed for what was, essentially, a casual dinner with a friend. Neither option made her feel in control. She went with the option that sounded like more fun, "I'll grab a bottle of wine on the way over."

"Grab two; Mother will be joining us. Oh, and Beckett..."

"Yeah?"

"I like the addition to the murderboard." He'd seen the A4 printout of Sidekicks.

"Me too,' she grinned, "See you later."

Beckett gave herself another hour at The Met before she caught the subway down to Spring St.

###

They'd spoken so many times over the past few days that it wasn't until he opened the door that she realised she may have overestimated her ability to compartmentalise. He'd dressed casually in a fitted t-shirt and well-worn jeans; a look she so rarely got to see, and she remembered immediately that the last time they were together the feel of him beside her had her so aching and wet she'd barely made it home before getting herself off alone in her bedroom to thoughts of him naked against her.

Her cheeks flooded with warmth at the memory and Beckett awkwardly handed over the bottles of wine with a mumbled, "Hey, Castle," before she stepped a wide arc passed him and headed for the kitchen.

She removed her coat and draped it over the back of a stool. Castle cursed the bottles of wine that prevented him from helping and he quickly found a place to leave them in case his hands were given the chance at greater purpose again.

"Can I just grab a glass of water?"

"Sure, help yourself. Has it warmed up that much outside?" Castle came to stand on the other side of the kitchen bench while Kate found a glass and filled it with filtered water from the fridge.

"I spent a while wandering around in the park; spring is certainly on its way." With both hands wrapped around the cool glass Kate took up residence directly opposite him and leaned on the counter.

"You might have gotten a little sunburned," he commented, noticing the flush of pink on her cheeks.

"What about you? You get any time in the sun?" She redirected him.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Would you like to see photos?"

"Not of you getting a tan, Castle, but I'd love to see some from the event."

"Grab a seat in the lounge, or in the study, whichever; I'm going to get us some snacks," he had a bounce in his step as he rounded the bench.

He reminded Kate of a kid with a new toy who couldn't wait to show his friends, and she stayed at her place leaning on the counter for a moment longer enjoying his energy. He took two bowls down from the cabinets and disappeared briefly into the pantry. Kate chose that moment to head to the lounge.

Castle came back through the glass doors as she made her way passed the end of the bar. He was still moving with a jump in his step and Kate paused to let him go through. Her hand swung up to stop him from crashing into her and he swung a casual arm out that trailed from the corner of her hip and around to her back; there was nothing intimate about it, merely two friends assuring themselves they were not going to collide. He continued, unconcerned, into the kitchen with a packet of chips in one hand and some salsa in the other. Kate turned and walked towards the couch.

The butterflies had started already; she wondered if he were as acutely aware of her body as she was of him and if so when he became so adept at concealing his attraction towards her. She wondered even more when she had lost the ability to control her own responses to him, and why, in this moment, she couldn't seem to care less.

Castle placed the bowls on one end of the coffee table and continued into his office. Beckett followed his progress with her eyes and tried to wrestle with the fight or flight reflex that was kicking in. She took a mouthful of cool water and grabbed a chip from the bowl; it was just adrenaline, and she had plenty of practice working through an adrenaline surge.

She reminded herself that she could walk out the door and head home for another night alone in her apartment any time she wanted. Even apart from the fact that she never got around to shopping and was ridiculously low on food she knew she wanted to be _here_; she wanted to be sitting on the couch with Castle. Even if she wasn't sure how to step forward she wanted to stop pulling away.

She sat back in her usual corner seat on the couch and took a bite of the chip; munching slowly.

With his open laptop in hand Castle wandered back into the room and set it down next to the snacks.

"Where's Martha and Alexis?" Kate asked. She wasn't sure if being alone with him right now would be good or bad, but she felt she needed to know either way.

"Alexis is upstairs on the phone, and you just missed Mother; she had to meet up with a new _friend _for drinks," he said with an eyebrow wiggle that redefined the word 'friend', and made Kate smile.

"More wine for us?" she asked.

"Don't get your hopes up. I think she'll be back after dinner."

His finger swirled and tapped its way across the touchpad until he found the album he wanted. Beckett shuffled closer so she could see the screen.

"You have to see this one," he said after a minute, scrolling to mid-way in the series of thumbnails, "Oh, hang on, this one's better..."

"Just start at the beginning."

"Okay, but wait until you see the costumes."

"Why were there costumes?"

"Mmmmm, I don't know, I didn't think to ask." He double tapped to enlarge the first photo and the stories began.

###

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Warning: fluffy Caskett moments ahead. If you're here for the thrillingly intricate *snort* crime stories then you can back out now... what? **_**No one**_** is here to see justice served to the great folk of NYC? Whatever is the world coming to...**

**.**

**I should have the next piece posted soon, just tweaking...**


	12. Chapter 12

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 12<p>

Kate had long since relaxed with shared laughter and the sense of completeness she only associated with Castle when the first touch came; his hand at her knee. He was pulling her focus back to the screen and the gesture was meant only to get her attention. She followed his silent request and he regaled her with exploits from his weekend while Kate tried not to move her leg. If it was an unconscious move on his part she didn't want to draw attention to it, and if he'd done it deliberately she sure as hell didn't want him to take his hand away. It felt like a guilty pleasure; her allowing herself to enjoy these moments of tenuous contact.

An infinitesimal increase in pressure and a tiny circling movement against the inside of her knee told her he knew perfectly well where his hand was. He used his left hand to click to the next image.

Kate caught a brief glimpse of close-up shot of Castle's face before he hastily clicked passed it with a groan.

"No, no, go back! I want to see that!" Kate laughed and leaned closer. She reached for the touchpad with her left hand, her arm coming under his where it sat against her knee. Her right hand came to cover his, holding him in place.

Castle made a feeble attempt to move to the next photo and Kate batted his hand out of the way and clicked backwards. Someone had taken a photo of Castle with his mouth disgustingly full of cake; he had two finger-stripes of chocolate icing down one cheek.

"I'd been messing around with one of the other writers; she was seriously hoeing into the chocolate cake! I had the camera in her face pretending to take photos and this was payback."

Kate laughed and shook her head at his antics. She wanted to ask about the icing stripes painted on his cheek, but the way she was leaning forward saw her with her arms encircling one of his, his hand trapped between her knees, and the contact distracted her. Aiming for a casual movement she took her hand away from the touchpad and let it come to rest on the bare skin at the inside of his elbow. He leaned slightly back into the movement.

Beckett breathed through the nervous tension that resulted from the departure from their long established status-quo and gave herself a mini pep-talk; she could ease into this, she was doing fine, this was a small enough gesture that she could retreat if she needed to. The tiny caresses at her knee reminded her how badly she didn't want to retreat.

He clicked on to the next photo. He didn't falter in his narration but the slight change in his demeanour was as noticeable to Kate as she suspected hers was to him. If he'd drawn attention to the contact she would have pulled away, instead he continued to share his weekend with her.

When the initial increase in tension faded to a dull throb in Kate's veins she allowed her body to relax into his arm. Her chin came to rest on his triceps, his elbow angling into her sternum, his forearm resting on the length of her thigh, her hand still sitting atop his at her knee; it felt both strangely casual and wonderfully intimate at the same time.

She felt him still once again at her movement and she silently begged him to keep going; to keep talking, to keep everything else the same as it always was and let her make this one tiny, and enormous, step forward without having to explain it.

He must have gotten the message. He clicked on a photo of the city skyline. "This was the view from my room."

"Looks gorgeous," she said, her voice a whisper compared to his excited commentary. She was acutely aware of every part of their bodies that were in contact. Heat curled in her belly and she revelled in it. If she couldn't find the words she needed to be able to talk to him then this, at least, was a way to show him that she was making progress.

"Have you been to Miami?"

"No, I haven't."

"The hotel was right on the bay. You should see the boats that were docked there! They have sunset dolphin cruises out to the islands in the summer," he turned his head slightly to look back at her, not enough to dislodge the grip she had on his arm but it was enough to bring their faces to within inches of each other.

"Next photo," Kate reminded him, her fingers tightening slightly at his elbow.

Kate saw his eyes close and then flick open again as he turned his attention back to the computer. He clicked on the next photo but said nothing for a long moment. His arm was no longer relaxed where it pressed into her stomach and she suspected he could feel the way her heart hammered in her chest.

"Is that by the bay?" she timed her question to coincide with a slow swipe of her thumb across the sensitive skin above the inside of his elbow.

The fingers at her knee gripped in response and he swallowed before replying, "No, there had a cascading waterfall in the restaurant."

His finger was idle on the touchpad for a moment and Kate could practically feel him thinking. "Listen, maybe we –"

"Next photo, Castle," Kate interrupted. It was taking every inch of her courage to touch him like she was. If he retreated now she wasn't sure she'd know how to reach out again.

Her attention was hardly on the screen when the next photo appeared; she focused instead on trying to relax into his side. She battled with the unrelenting image of his hand travelling up her leg. As much as she knew she needed to be the one in control of this, another part of her wished he would just take over; run his hand up her thigh, press her back into the couch, and kiss her senseless. It wouldn't take much; she was half way to losing her sanity as it was.

They sat together on the couch, neither speaking, a photo of six colourful cocktails with umbrellas visible on the laptop. Clearly he was still waiting for her.

"Is this from the cabaret bar?" she asked finally. The way she sat, her body slightly behind his, tight against his side, it would be only the slightest of movements to rest her head against the back of his shoulder. She wondered how much more of this either of them could take. Her head on his shoulder was a far cry from him pressing her back into the couch but it was starting to sound almost as good.

"This is earlier in the night, before the comedy show, and before the dancing started."

"Did you get a photo of the conga line?" she dipped her head and pressed a smile into the cotton of his t-shirt.

The muscles under her hand and lips flexed. "I had one of the waiters take a photo." He clicked rapidly past several shots until he stopped on an image with about a dozen people, drinks in hand, one leg raised, smiling broadly for the camera. Castle was at the back grinning like a fool.

Beckett snorted into his arm, "It's a good one," she noticed the drink he held jammed full of umbrellas and her laugh came again. Castle chuckled with her. He turned his body towards her and the pressure pushed her legs away. He held tight with the hand at her knee to stop her from continuing the movement.

His other hand touched first at the fingers caressing his elbow, and then skimmed around his own arm to find the side of her neck and tangle in the base of her hair, holding her against him. He twisted his torso and rested his lips at her temple, "You ready to start on dinner?" he asked gently.

"Dinner sounds good," Kate replied.

The hand at her head released her, and he gentled his grip on her knee. Kate relaxed the hold she had on his arm and leaned away so she was no longer draped against his side. Rather than simply stand up, Castle slid his hand to find hers and helped her to her feet. He kept hold of her a moment longer than necessary and then stepped forward, his hand at her back, and ushered them around the lounge. He didn't lose contact with her back until they got to the kitchen and he pulled out a chair for her.

Beckett took a seat at the kitchen bar and, with her elbow on the counter and her head supported by her palm, she watched Castle move about the kitchen.

"Beef stir-fry alright?"

"Whatever you're making is fine. We could order in if that was easier."

"No, I'm happy to cook. I chopped the vegetables earlier so it won't take long."

He pulled a frypan out of the cupboard, and then several covered containers out of the fridge. The oil was in the pan and the heat on before he looked up at her again.

"You're right, the staring really is unnerving."

Kate laughed, "Maybe it's time to call in the cavalry." She shot a glance upstairs to indicate she meant Alexis.

"Do I need reinforcements?" he shot back.

"I think you're probably safe for now."

"Then why don't you open the wine?"

"Sounds like a plan," Beckett chose one of the bottles and moved around the other side of the kitchen to the drawers for a bottle opener, "Although I will warn you, apart from that handful of corn chips I haven't eaten since this morning."

"Then make it two really small glasses. The room already feels like its spinning, I'm not sure adding alcohol is a wise decision," he smiled to let her know he was teasing, even if the words were true.

Kate took down the wine glasses and poured two small serves. She leaned against the counter at Castle's side and waited for him to finish putting the marinated beef strips in the pan. He pushed them around a few times with the spatula before washing his hands at the sink and crossing back to Kate.

He held his hand out for his glass, but his eyes were on her face; searching. She felt stripped bare and had to force herself not to look away. Instead she stood up straight and passed the glass over. Both hands came up to take it from her and he very deliberately covered her hand with his own as he slid the glass out of her grasp.

"Okay," he said, as if agreeing with something she had said.

He took a sip of the wine and then sat the glass back on the counter. Reaching in behind her he took several of the containers and started opening lids. Kate relaxed against the counter again, one leg crossed over the other, happy now to watch her partner cook.

The smell of frying garlic and ginger must have wafted up the stairs. Alexis almost bounded down the steps, a curtain of red hair flying behind her.

"I'm so hungry! That smells incredible," she said while she were still halfway down.

Although his body remained sideways to hers, Castle reached out and ran his hand down the length of Kate's arm. When it reached her fingers he didn't try to hold her hand, instead he brushed his fingertips gently over the edge of her thumb and let his hand fall away. It was almost as if he were reassuring himself that she was still there or, more likely, seeking to calm her in case she became spooked now that they were no longer alone.

It was scary how well he knew her; but this time the gesture was unnecessary. Despite the unrelenting butterflies that danced in her belly she was perfectly content with the slight shift in their relationship. She wasn't ready to draw back, if anything, his measured reaction to her advances made her want to keep pushing.

"It's not ready yet, but help yourself to some wine," he teased his daughter.

She tilted her head and, with pursed lips, gave him a disapproving stare. "I'm glad you could come for dinner, Kate." Alexis said while stealing a carrot.

Castle swatted the girl's hand away and mock-growled at her.

"Seemed like the right time for it," Kate agreed. She headed around the counter to join the girl on the other side of the hob and as she did she pressed her hand firmly against Castle's back.

He turned to watch her, and she flashed him a small smile before reaching out and linking her arm with Alexis ' and coaxing her towards the dining table.

They each took a seat either side of the corner of the table, Kate propped her foot up on the edge of the chair and hugged her knee to her chest. Alexis rested both arms on the table and leaned towards her.

"What did you get up to today?"

"Not much. A few friends and I met for brunch, but, I have to say, I can't wait to hear back about an internship. I'm not sure how it happened but it seems I missed out on the idle-procrastination gene."

"We closed that last case yesterday," Kate started, wanting to let Alexis know that her contribution had not gone unnoticed.

Her voice was pitched low, and Alexis replied in kind, "Dad mentioned it."

"I realise that you weren't talking about the case, and perhaps we'll finish that other conversation another time," Kate noted Alexis' surprise that she were willing to mention the discussion that skirted around the feelings that Castle had for her. The girl looked briefly in her father's direction and Kate had to restrain herself from looking around to see if he was listening, "but I thought you would want to know that your comments helped point me in the right direction. The family has answers thanks to you."

"The family has answers thanks to _you_," Alexis' hand flittered briefly to Kate's arm and then settled back on the table, "but I'm glad I could be around to help."

Alexis' smile hardly touched her mouth, but her eyes lit up and a faint pink blush rose along her cheeks which was enough to make Kate glad that she'd mentioned it.

"You ready to make him sweat a little?" the teenager's expression had turned devious.

"What did you have in mind?" Kate asked.

Alexis' voice was slightly louder when she spoke next; loud enough to be heard over the sizzling of dinner if someone happened to be straining to hear, "Yours is a Harley, right?"

Kate grinned, enjoying herself already, "A '94 softail, yeah. But I know something that would be perfect for you; Electric Motorsports makes a fully electric motorcycle that is incredibly sexy."

"Really?" Alexis sat upright "Have you ridden one?"

"I haven't. I'm kinda partial to the roar of a petrol engine myself, but you'd love it. It's light-weight, and the sports model goes hell-fast!" Kate grinned shamelessly.

"What's it called?"

"It's a GPR-S. You should google it."

"I'm going to!" Alexis actually stood up from the table and run upstairs. Kate had to give her extra points for participation.

She forced the smile from her face before joining Castle back in the kitchen.

He was predictably curious, "What was that about?"

"Just talking to Alexis about my motorcycle," she replied, before taking a mouthful of wine and then busying herself pouring more. She held out the bottle, "You want another?"

"I'll get this out first. I'm nearly done if you want to grab plates?"

"No problem," Kate carried the wine back to the table and then set about getting down plates.

"What about your motorcycle?" he asked, pushing.

He was interrupted by an excited squeal from the stairs, "You are right! It is sexy! Have you seen the silver one?" she clattered down the stairs with her notebook in hand and ran to set it on the kitchen bench to show both Kate and her father, "Is this it?"

"Yeah, that's it. Does it show the specs?"

"What is it? Why are you looking at motorcycles?" Castle asked, looking accusingly at Kate.

"Kate took me for a ride on hers the other day."

"She did what?"

"Relax, Castle. We stuck to the speed limit the whole way."

"What's wrong with your vespa?" he turned his attention back to the woman he had some hope of reasoning with.

"I think something a little more grown up would be more appropriate for college, don't you, Dad?" she asked, her voice super-sweet.

"No, I don't!"

Kate carried the plates and cutlery to the table to avoid having to meet his eye. She was setting them around the table when she heard Alexis say quietly "Dad, did you know that Kate has a tattoo?"

Castle's reply was a strangled, "What?"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**AN- Is it wrong that we like to tease Castle?**


	13. Chapter 13

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 13<p>

* * *

><p>Martha returned from her drinks-date just as they started clearing the table. Her presence was announced by a click of heels on the timber floor and a loud "Good evening, all," as she removed her coat and strolled into the dining room.<p>

"Hi, Gram," Alexis greeted warmly, "How was your date?"

"It wasn't a date, dear," she corrected, "It was a rendezvous."

"What's the difference?"

Martha replied with, "Expectations," and a saucy wink while Castle tried to speak over her with a loud, "Don't ask!"

"How was dinner?" Martha asked, her attention on Kate.

"It was lovely."

"Did you find time to eat during your rendezvous?" Castle asked cheekily.

"Nibbles only; I might help myself to something more substantial. Oh, and I see there's wine."

"And a second bottle where that came from," Kate agreed.

"Can you keep me company? Or have you finished at the table?"

"I'm up for more company," Kate said, depositing the dirty plates next to the sink, "Can you fill my glass while I get the dishes started?"

"I'm sure Richard can start on the washing up, right, darling?" she turned to her son.

"Castle cooked," Kate replied, "I don't mind washing up."

"Nonsense, dear! You're a guest."

Castle smiled at the two women, but stayed out of the discussion as he put the salt and pepper away in the cupboard and then took the second bottle of wine back to the table.

"Richard!" Martha protested again when Kate started filling the sink.

"Kate's right, Mother; I cooked, it's definitely her job to wash," he took his seat.

"You can come dry." Kate called out, and threw a towel onto the kitchen bench for him.

He chuckled and came back into the kitchen. Martha swatted him on the shoulder and he sidestepped her and picked up the dish towel.

"Gram, wait until you see this electric motorcycle Kate recommended." Alexis placed her notebook on the counter next to where the older woman was dishing out her dinner.

"Oh, look at that," Martha glanced between Kate and her grand-daughter. "It's rather sleek looking," she said to a grinning Alexis.

"Do you have time to go shopping this weekend?"

"Shopping with you? Need you ask?" Martha replied.

"You're not looking at motorcycles!" Castle protested.

"No, Kate knows a boutique that does these amazing leather boots. I thought we could check them out."

Kate busied herself with the washing up and tried to ignore the death stare Castle was sending in her direction.

"I go away for one weekend and suddenly there are pod-people in my house!"

###

With Martha's help the three of them easily finished off the second bottle of wine. They remained at the dining table, talking and laughing over Martha's accounts of her current classes and the school's most recent performances. Kate listened again as Castle repeated stories of his weekend for his family, and she found she enjoyed them even more the second time around being able to watch his face instead of being so focused on the nuances of their physical connection.

The topic of conversation had changed again and it took Kate a moment to catch up. She looked up and caught Castle watching her.

"– heartbreaking for her, but a revelation for me, nonetheless." Martha was talking about the woman that had broken her leg.

"A revelation, why?" Castle asked, clearly having followed the conversation better than Kate.

"The young woman that had previously been selected as her understudy is simply astounding. Don't get me wrong, for a while I was worried," Martha waved her hand to emphasis her point, "she was _woefully_ underprepared," An eye roll this time revealed her thoughts on the girl.

Kate loved the way the diva used her whole body to tell her story.

"We persevered, a few late nights at the studio – as Alexis will tell you – but in the end... startling!"

"What happened?" Alexis asked, fascinated.

"She is, quite possibly, the most talented actress I have ever mentored. She had simply never been forced to delve into her psyche." Martha stood up and began gathering empty glasses, "When I think of what lay right there in front of me! And of the gift that girl could have wasted! Incredible." She sashayed into the kitchen. "Are you kids having more wine or should I rinse these glasses?"

"I'm done, thanks, Martha," Kate said standing up from the table.

"Are you heading upstairs for the evening?" Castle asked his mother.

"Trying to get rid of me, dear?" Martha teased, coming back around behind her son and resting her hands on his shoulders

Kate would have glared at him over his luck of subtlety if Martha weren't also in her line of sight.

"I'm going to read a few chapters of one of my new books," Alexis said, also making her move to leave, "Goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight, pumpkin," Castle stood and opened his arms for a hug.

Alexis gave him a quick squeeze and then allowed Martha to return the favour as the three of them exchanged goodnights.

Martha and Alexis walked up the stairs together, still chatting. Castle turned from beside the table and faced Kate.

Neither of them spoke immediately. Kate warred with herself; torn between her desire to return to the loungeroom with him, and the knowledge that things were probably best left as they were for the night.

"Are you staying?" Castle asked, eventually.

"Is that alright?"

"Of course it is. I changed the sheets in the guest room this afternoon, just in case. Let me run up and get some of Alexis' pyjamas for you."

"Thanks, Castle."

He nodded and pushed up from the lounge.

Kate watched him disappear up the stairs before she wandered over to the lounge area. She lay back along the length of the couch and let out a slow breath. She'd had enough wine to have a pleasant lightheaded buzz, but not enough to be able to claim deniability. Anything she did tonight would follow her into the morning.

She very briefly entertained the fantasy of staying where she was and inviting Castle to join her... she pushed down the flare of arousal that had been sparking all afternoon from her chest to points much lower. Not bothering to sit up, despite the sound of Castle's return, she watched him as he paused at the foot of the stairs and studied her.

"Do you feel okay, Kate."

It would have been nice to have been able to smile at the concern in his voice, but she suspected he was still waiting for her to step back, shut him out, and retreat safely back to her apartment. A voice inside her head replied silently that she felt wonderful, but she knew saying it aloud would probably make him doubt her even more.

Instead she stood up from the lounge and walked to stand beside him, "Everything is fine, Castle. I'm going to go take a shower."

He reached for her then; hooking a finger around her wrist and placing one hand at her waist, he turned into her. Kate dipped her head slightly and her hair fell to tickle against his upper arm. She placed her hand on his chest and her fingers skimmed the ridge of his collarbone. Her heart thudded and she grinned; relieved that he was stepping up and not allowing to her to run.

"We still have tomorrow, Castle," she said quietly, spreading the fingers of her hand to splay across his chest as she stepped away. "I'm going to shower and change. Will you still be up when I get out?"

"I'll probably be in the study."

"I'll come find you," she assured him, and headed up the stairs.

###

A set of pale blue pyjamas and a bath towel were laid out on the top of the vanity cabinet along with a robe, a pair of socks, and a toothbrush. She closed and locked the door, and then proceeded to undress.

She was hyper aware of the fact that Castle was downstairs and quite likely undressing to shower in his own bathroom. She liked the thought. Even more than that, she liked the fact that she could admit to herself that she liked the thought.

Kate turned on the water and twisted her hair in a rough knot on top of her head while she waited for it to heat up. As she stepped into the spray she wondered what Castle was thinking about. A smile blossomed, and she turned her face skyward to let the water fall over her.

If this was how she felt after having only run her hands across his arms and back, she couldn't wait to have access to the rest of him.

###

Once she was dressed in the borrowed pyjamas she opened the door before brushing her teeth and combing her hair.

She was tidying up and wiping down the counter when Alexis leaned shyly on the door frame as if worried she were imposing.

Kate smiled and said, "I think he's going to have nightmares about you on a motorcycle tonight."

"Somehow I don't think he will, but we definitely have him worried."

"We'll have to find one of the motorcycles in the city and see if I can take it for a test-drive; get a photo of you on it."

"We really should," she agreed.

"Thanks for the loan of the pyjamas."

"You would be welcome, but those aren't mine."

"They're not?" Kate looked down and frowned.

"They're not Martha's?" she asked, puzzled.

Alexis giggled," I don't think I've seen Grams show that much leg since she did Temptation Lane."

"Are they too short?"

"No, of course not! They suit you. But you needn't worry about them belonging to Grams."

"Okay."

"Will you be here for breakfast?"

"I have the day off, so no reason to have to rush off."

"I'll see you in the morning, then."

Kate wished her a good night and then carried her clothes back to the guest room. She put on the socks and debated crawling under the covers and falling asleep. She looked down at the pyjamas and felt an annoying niggle that threatened to blossom into anger. She didn't mind borrowing Alexis' clothes, but wearing something of Gina's, or worse, made her uncomfortable.

She headed back downstairs and found him, as promised, in the study.

From behind his desk he looked up at her approach, and she saw his eyes flick along the length of her legs before managing to settle at eye level.

"I really don't need to be wearing pyjamas that you found kicked under your bed one morning," she started, an edge to her voice.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, puzzled.

"These aren't Alexis'," she pointed to the clothes she wore.

"No, but I can assure you that anything I may have found kicked under my bed in the past would be well and truly out of season by now."

Kate considered that for a moment. She knew perfectly well that he hadn't been casually dating any more than she had been of late. "Then whose are they?"

"No one's worn them before you. "

"They're new?" She pushed, still fighting the irritation she probably shouldn't have felt.

"That's the general definition."

"Then why did you say they belonged to Alexis?"

"Because I didn't want you reading too much into my buying you pyjamas."

"Then why _did_ you buy me pyjamas?"

Castle sighed, clearly not happy with the tangent their evening had taken, "Alexis is heading off to college, I assume she'll be taking most of her stuff with her, and while I'm happy to have you sleeping in my boxer shorts, or not," he tried to defuse the tension with a playful eyes-wide leer, "I thought you'd be more comfortable in something else and not likely to bring your own."

"It's not like I spend the night here very often," Kate persisted.

"You're spending _tonigh_t here... look, Kate, I have nothing against cranky-Beckett, in fact I kinda like the way her eyes flash at me, and I'm more than happy to state my case on an issue if I need to, but can we save it for something more important than sleepwear?"

Kate studied him, "How did you _think_ I'd react to you buying me underwear?"

"For one, it's not technically underwear seeing as you're not wearing anything _over _it, and two, I thought you might say 'Rick, these sleepshorts do something _amazing_ for my legs; your thoughtfulness is appreciated'."

Kate chuckled at the exaggerated doe-eyed look on his face, "That's what you thought I'd say?" she said dubiously, and then asked, "Since when do I call you 'Rick'?"

"If you're done pouting, come see this," he distracted her with a book.

She levelled a glare at him just to be safe, before taking the book and turning it over in her hand to look at the cover, "He _did_ have a new one out."

"It's being made into a movie. I got him to sign it for you."

Kate opened the book, found the title page, and read the inscription. She laughed, "You told him I was a fan?"

"I may have suggested you didn't have room for him on your bookshelves for it but you _might_ get around to reading it," he teased, "It's actually quite good."

"You got one for yourself, too?"

"I read yours on the plane," he admitted. "It was either that or suffer through Patterson's latest. I'm not sure if this was meant for you or me." He held up a hardcover for her to take.

"Angel; Maximum Ride?" she asked.

"I know, it sounds like a porn story, but it's actually just been added to the kid's reading program. He thought he was being funny with the inscription."

She flipped the pages to see his note. _"__Spend time every day listening to what your muse is trying to tell you - Saint Bartholomew."_

"I've always liked Patterson." Kate said closing it and cradling both books loosely in her arms. Looking back up at Castle she was not surprised to see his gaze fixed on her. The tension level in the room increased immediately.

The door to his bedroom was open. Beyond it she could see the dark browns, greys, and golds of his furnishings; masculine colours that, in her current mood, she found vastly appealing.

"Do something with me tomorrow?" Castle asked, breaking the silence and bringing her eyes back to him.

"Like what?"

"I don't mind, whatever you like; but spend the day with me."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, Castle. Okay." Kate shifted her weight to her other foot and took a half step closer to his desk, "Did you think I'd say no."

Castle stood up. He didn't move any closer but sat on the corner of his desk; reducing the height difference between them, "I thought it was possible. We've had a big night."

"I'm a big girl, Castle. I can back it up the next day."

His grin was a mix of amusement and something akin to pride, "Never doubted it. I'll see you in the morning then."

"You're heading to bed?"

"Probably for the best," his voice was serious but before the mood had a chance to change he added, "Might be a big day tomorrow."

.

* * *

><p>:-)<p>

**A/N- can i give you a hint? It really will be a big day tomorrow...**


	14. Chapter 14

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 14<p>

* * *

><p>Kate woke early. The room was still dark and the loft was quiet; far quieter than her apartment usually was. With her face still buried in the pillows she let her hand slide across the smooth sheets to the space beside her. A phantom presence from her dreams lay heavy around her and despite the impossibility of it she was almost surprised to find the space beside her empty.<p>

She rolled on to her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her nipples were pebbled peaks under the cotton pyjamas and a haze of arousal made her legs heavy and her belly feel tight. Kate considered dipping one hand inside the pyjama bottoms Castle had bought for her and allowing herself the orgasm her body had been chasing in sleep.

Her thoughts turned instead to Castle. She wondered if he were still asleep, and then entertained herself with the fantasy of tiptoeing downstairs and stealing into his bedroom and into his bed to lay curved against the warmth of his back. She imagined waking him with kisses trailed along his shoulder and neck, her hands roaming over his back and hips, and feeling him come alive against her.

It would be easier, and far less prone to misunderstanding, than any conversation she imagined trying to have with him again about walls and relationships – and infinitely more pleasurable.

Kate tried not to think about what she was doing and where she was doing it; and just gave in to the need for pressure against her clit. She traced one finger gently across herself and through the building wetness, and kept the image of Castle firmly in her mind; the way he looked last night, t-shirt tight against the muscles of his arms. She imagined peeling it off him. Running her hands across his chest and over his shoulders. She fast-forwarded – not needing the visual foreplay – and imagined them moving skin-on-skin with her legs wrapped around him, and his hands at her breasts and kneading her arse and sliding between her legs, and his tongue – oh god, his tongue – on her swirling and sucking and –

Kate came with a sharp intake of breath. Her hips bucked and she breathed out, open mouthed, to prevent herself from calling out. With fingers still circling her clit she revelled in the aftershocks that skittered over her skin and wished she were kissing him.

She lay quietly for a long moment afterwards with her hands sliding over her stomach and breasts simply enjoying the tingle that spread across her skin.

She wanted him, all of him, and if she were going to do this she wanted to make sure she did it right. Loving him was nothing new, but the fierce determination she felt to prove it to him suddenly gave her clarity.

It wasn't about letting him in. It wasn't about accepting his love. It wasn't about being willing to risk herself again.

It was about proving to him that she was worth it; the hurt, and the loss of innocence, and the fear, and the heartbreak – everything he had suffered through to get to this point was worth it.

It was about convincing him that she could love him as fiercely and as completely as he had loved her.

###

With a sudden motivation that wouldn't allow her to stay in bed any longer Kate got up and dressed in her clothes from yesterday. She made a quick detour to the bathroom to freshen up and then tiptoed down the stairs.

She knew Castle would hear her moving about and, with the coffee brewing, she helped herself to eggs and cheese and bacon to make an omelette. She had both their coffees poured when the door to the study opened and he came out wearing sweat pants and a loose t-shirt. His hair looked like it _might_ have been fingercombed, but it was a long way from the usual put-together business-casual elegance that presented each morning at the precinct. Kate liked it.

She felt her heart turn over once in her chest and it wasn't until he returned a fully fledged smile that she realised she must have been grinning like a fool.

"Good morning, Castle. There's coffee." She slid one mug across the counter.

"I see." He glanced at the coffee, at her breakfast preparations, and then back to her face.

Her look dared him to comment, and when he didn't she went back to dicing the bacon.

"You need some help?" he asked.

"No. But if there's anything else you want in your omelette you can get it out for me."

"Mushrooms and shallots?"

"Sure; line 'em up and I'll get dicing." Kate felt like she had energy to burn and she had to focus her movements on the knife so her feet didn't start tapping.

With coffee in hand Castle held the fridge door open with his foot; he placed first a bag of mushrooms and then a small bundle of fresh shallots next to her chopping board, and then allowed the door to swing shut. He came to stand beside her and Kate visualised herself reaching up to place a good morning kiss on his cheek. Instead of acting on the inopportune impulse she smiled at him instead.

The smile had something close to the same result; he caressed her with his eyes, wordlessly acknowledging the subtle dance that she was orchestrating. The air thrummed between them and even without physical contact Kate felt wrapped within his arms. His eyes, shimmering blue and clear, seemed to soak her in as if memorising every detail.

"You want to come back to my apartment with me after breakfast so I can get changed?" Kate asked, "We could head down to the river and stroll around? Or see what's on at the Angelika if you'd prefer?"

"Whichever you like."

"I'm asking you, Castle," Kate nudged him with her hip, encouraging him.

Castle didn't shift out of the way of her nudge, and while he kept his focus on her breakfast preparations he bought his hand up to rest lightly on her back, "Then let's walk along the park and down to the marina."

"Nice." Kate agreed, smiling down at the mushrooms.

The omelette required her to move away from him a minute later. Castle turned to lean his back against the end of the bench and watched her move confidently around his kitchen finding the frypan and mixing bowl and egg whisk.

Over the busyness of cooking bacon, grating cheese, and whisking eggs they stole smiles and shared snippets of conversation;

"Should we grab sandwiches for a picnic?"

"I've got my final physical therapy appointment next week..."

"Has Lanie fessed up about her and Esposito?"

"If you want coffee when we get back to my place we need to get milk on the way..."

Martha joined them in the kitchen while Kate was flipping portions onto their plates and trying to convince Castle to stop watching her and go sit down.

A cheerful "good morning" greeted them before the matriarch took a closer look at Rick, relaxing against the counter and Kate, her hands full, kicking playfully at him to push him towards the table.

She came to an immediate stop and exclaimed, "Oh my! It _is_ a good morning." She placed a hand on Kate's forearm and said, "Darling, you look positively radiant!" Martha then turned an approving look towards her son. At the look on his face her pleased smile was immediately replaced with wide-eyed confusion.

Castle was vigorously shaking his head and mouthing the word 'no' repeatedly.

"What?" the question seemed almost to slip out, "No? No – okay then, well good morning to you both anyway." She gave a broad flourish with her hands, a well-practiced means of distraction, and turned to get something from the fridge.

Castle looked absolutely petrified when he turned back to Kate, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud at their performance, "Here, take your plate," she said instead, and shuffled him out of the kitchen.

If she had any doubts about the welcome she would receive from Castle's family Martha's display laid them to rest.

"Are you eating now, Martha, or should I put this in the oven to stay warm?"

"No, don't bother, dear, I'll take care of it. Alexis will be down shortly and I'll eat with her." She made a shooing gesture, and Kate obeyed by taking her own breakfast and joining Castle.

"I'm sorry about Mother," Castle immediately apologised.

"Don't be; I love that she finds delight in everything. Besides, it is a good morning," she assured him.

"Is there any particular reason why _today_ ended up being a good morning?" Castle asked, skirting around the question but still hoping to decipher the puzzle she presented.

Kate took a mouthful of her omelette and chewed slowly. The angle of Castle's eyebrow told her he recognised her stalling tactic. "I thought we decided last night that today was going to be a big day," she said eventually, "Maybe I'm just looking forward to a day away from the precinct and to getting some sunshine."

"Fair enough." Kate couldn't tell if he were happy with that answer or not.

"Or maybe I'm just waiting to see what _you_ come up with for the day," she added.

"You should give me more of a clue. I'd hate to disappoint," he quipped.

"Oh, I don't think you'll disappoint." Kate's voice was pure seduction. She winked at him and, smiling evilly, took another mouthful of breakfast.

He wasn't getting a bigger clue than that.

###

Castle put the milk in Kate's fridge and then wandered into the living room to wait for her to finish changing. He crossed, without thinking, to the desk in the corner of her apartment and the improvised murderboard window she kept there; the story of her mother's death and the more recent attempt on her life.

He reached out to open the shutters and a glitter of dust motes moving through the beams of sunlight caught his attention. Pausing, he looked down at the clean surface of the shelf that ran along the wall, and beside him to the photo frames and nicnacs – dust free – on the window ledge.

The timber grooves of the shutter had the faintest trace of dust and he ran his finger across it, bewildered. Kate hadn't been working on her mother's murder? Hadn't even opened the screens to stare at the images and notes looking for previously-missed connections? Had she truly let it rest as he had asked – begged – her to do?

He wasn't sure what to do with that discovery. Castle walked away from her office and came back into the safer territory of her lounge room. He stood awkwardly next to the bookshelves with his thoughts jumbled. His memory still taunted him with her words that day in the playground; Kate looking vulnerable and trying to explain her need to close that chapter of her life before she could be the person she wanted to be; before she could get past the wall she felt inside.

Yesterday and this morning she had shown him a side of herself he hadn't expected to see anytime soon; she had granted him a glimpse of what lay beyond that barrier. Yet the foundations of that wall, the very bedrock of their existence, sat untouched. Abandoned?

Had she intentionally stepped back? Was she content, for now, to let it rest? Did she perhaps suspect that he had, if not willingly then at least determinedly, taken up her fight? Was she instead _allowing_ him to shoulder the burden for her?

Is that what today was? An interlude? An acknowledgment? A wordless thankyou?

Or was this who Kate Beckett was without the spectre of loss intruding on her daily? Had closing those shutters and taking a step back given her the opportunity to see that she _could_ be the person she wanted to be?

The questions created a conflict within him; an overwhelming desire to show her that the pain of her past did not have to limit her. He wanted to take her timid overtures of intimacy and return them tenfold. Convince her that letting go – moving forward – was worth it.

Beyond it all hovered an omnipresent fear that, when the time came for the shadowy figures that haunted them to make their move, it would undermine the progress they had made recently.

The sound of the upstairs door clicking shut and Kate's footsteps on the stairs made him look up. The sight of her in jeans and joggers, white t-shirt, hair braided down her back, and the warm smile she directed at him was enough to quiet his muddle of emotion.

"You ready?" she asked.

"Lead on."

###

* * *

><p>.<p>

**AN- This wasn't supposed to be the end of this chapter but i'm too paranoid to post the rest without madsthenerdygirl working her beta wonder ... especially seeing as the chapters following this seem to be getting a little more sappy than i would usually write (i must be having some oxytocin withdrawls of my own).**

**Updates should follow pretty quickly though...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's the rest of chapter 14, but we'll call it chapter 15 now just so I don't get confused. **

**I'm feeling like I need to disclaim the extra-fluffiness that's going to be coming up over the next couple of chapters. While I don't mind reading it from other people I am finding that when it comes out of my own head I'm disturbed by my level of sappy-romantic-foolishness (Caskett has killed my determination not to believe in soul mates) and I want to run and hide back in the crime stories and the smut! ROFL! But this is where this story went, and it's what tumbled out as I was writing, so I made the call to keep it rather than anguish over it.**

**It is so far un-betaed (because i really want this story wrapped up before The Blue Butterfly airs!) so my huge apologies to my beta reader extraordinaire Madsthenerdygirl, and a big thanks for helping me with this so far. I've had a ball.**

**.**

* * *

><p>They wandered through Kate's neighbourhood, making their way towards the Greenway and the Hudson River. Their pace was slower than their usual side-by-side march towards a crime scene and Kate found herself deliberately reducing the length of each stride; taking her time to enjoy the walk itself.<p>

"We've never done this before," Castle said, his thoughts a reflection of hers.

"Done what?"

"Just spent the day together for no reason; no case, no investigation, no public event – just us."

"I didn't think you'd be complaining."

"Do you hear me complaining?" he asked, grinning, "It's just different... Can I admit that it makes me a little nervous?"

Kate cast him a sideways smile and, without the curtain of her hair, it seemed far less bashful. "Don't know what to do with your hands, Castle?" She walked a little closer and linked both hands around his arm; grounding him.

He bent his arm to trap one of her hands in the curve of his elbow. "You are a constant surprise to me."

"How are you doin' keeping up?"

"I'm not sure, I think I'm managing?" he seemed uncertain, "I don't want to get ahead of the class."

"The class is ready for A.P. finals."

"Finals? Then I might need a few remedial lessons."

"Do you need a study tutor?"

"It couldn't hurt."

"What subjects are you struggling in?"

"Physics, definitely; the laws of motion and causality elude me," Castle said dryly.

"Mmmm, I wouldn't worry; I think you have enough credits in chemistry and humanities to get you though. Maybe you could beef up on your women's studies and phys ed?"

Castle laughed loudly and turned an adoring smile to Kate. He shook his head, puzzled, but his eyes were free of doubt.

"Are we grabbing sandwiches?" He asked as they passed a cafe.

"Can we wait until we get to the park? We can sit on the grass?"

"Is this where you run?"

"Sometimes. Or I'll head along Hudson and cross into the Greenway above Hubert; sidewalks are wider and it makes for a longer circuit."

He filed it away as another snippet of Kate Beckett; a side of her he'd never had a chance to explore before.

By the time the river came into view they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm; each adapting in their own way to the changing dynamic between them. Kate felt relaxed against the warmth of his body. Their arms linked loosely and the slight tension of uncertainty had given way under their mutual trust and familiarity with one another.

Kate was both relieved by the sense of comfort and frustrated by the continued status-quo. She'd rarely had to be the one to make a move physically in a new relationship. Worse than that she'd never been one to hesitate before; if she'd wanted someone she let them know. Looking back she realized that every encounter in which she was the dominant one was purely physical. The added complexity of emotional intimacy was a stumbling block she was having a hard time getting passed.

Castle had not backed away from any move she'd made towards him, but he hadn't acted in response, and the confidence she'd felt that morning was ebbing. She briefly wondered if perhaps Castle was happy with the way things were – that wasn't something she'd considered before. Was he not pushing because _he_ wasn't ready for a relationship? She turned that around in her head for a moment before discarding the thought as unlikely.

Needing the extra contact to both reassure and motivate her to push forward Kate loosened her grip on his arm and trailed her hand down to link their fingers together. She needed skin on skin to push them both out of their comfort zones.

The effect was immediate and she felt the butterflies in her belly and the adrenaline flow through her. This was what she needed. If the words kept failing her then she'd focus on something else.

Kate led them along the path that skirted the edge of the park and up the stairs to the deli.  
>Castle had gone silent beside her; not commenting on their entwined hands and seemingly content to take his cues from her.<p>

They separated long enough to order an early lunch and then made their way down from the terrace onto the grassed parkland that ran the length of the Hudson. Away from the chill of brick and glass and out of the shadow of Manhattan's high-rises the sun was warm enough to loosen their coats.

Rather than head onto the grass Castle kept walking towards the waterside, "Are you hungry? Can we stop here for a while first?" he asked, leading them onto the pathway and leaning on the railing.

"We can do whatever you like." Kate stood beside him. The breeze off the water was cold and she was tempted to refasten her coat. She pulled it across her chest and rested her stomach on the rail. She leaned out and looked up and down the river enjoying the combination of sun and wind on her face.

She felt Castle's presence at her back and held her breath. His hand ran from low on her back up her spine to rest between her shoulder blades. She felt goose bumps break out along her neck and prickle the base of her head. She stayed leaning on the railing but turned her torso to look at him. His face seemed far too serious to Kate; his eyes intent on hers. She smiled tentatively, and when his expression lightened and his eyes crinkled slightly she felt her own response in a tightening of her chest. Her mouth turned upwards with uninhibited joy and she turned into him, not breaking eye contact. The movement saw Castle's hand slip from the flat plane between her shoulder blades to the curve of her shoulder.

A dozen heartbeats pounded in her chest as they stood together. They were close enough to wrap their arms around each other if either of them moved. Neither did.

Kate felt she could easily loose herself in his eyes; she felt curiously both exposed and protected, laid bare and then wrapped within his care. Her hands released their hold on her coat lapels and she reached up to touch the pad of her thumb to the corner of his eye. Her fingers disappeared into his hair and then together traced a line from his temple down to his jaw. His eyes threatened to flutter shut.

"Kate?" he exhaled her name, questioning and desperate.

She smiled encouragingly but her head shook 'no'. Moving forward; a tiny shuffle of one foot until their coats brushed fully together, creating a phantom pressure against the other's body, she rose up onto her toes, "Shhhh, Castle," she shushed him, her breath warm against his lips, "Can we just have today?" Kate asked.

The hand firmed on her shoulder, "I want more than just today."

Kate's hand continued to map out the hard line of his jaw, the pulsing beat at the soft curve of his throat, the tickle of hair as her fingers ran around the nape of his neck.

"I don't mean like that. Can we just have today without talking, just... I_ feel_ it, Castle, when you touch me. I feel 'us'. Can we start with that?"

"Is that what we're doing – starting?" he waited, needing to hear the words.

"That's up to you."

"No, Kate, it's never been up to me."

"And if it were?"

A rustle and clatter of their lunch falling to the ground was followed by his hand rushing up across her hip to glide under her coat. His other hand left her shoulder and cradled the side of her head as he bought their mouths together. The kiss was demanding and he pulled her tight against him as if his grasp was all that was holding her to him.

His mouth opened immediately and Kate responded; her hand clenched in his hair and she used her grip to pull herself up and into him. Her tongue didn't stop to explore his lips; bypassing gentle discovery she sought instead to claim him and offer herself in return.

He growled into her mouth; not a gentle moan or a satisfied sigh, but a deep rumbling of pure need. Frantic hands grasped and fisted, and it wasn't until Kate felt both his hands dip to cup her arse and pull her into him that she remembered where they were.

She broke away and her laughter bubbled up as she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and slumped into him, "God, Castle!" her breath came in gasps around her giggles, her face buried against his chest.

Castle's hands released her slightly and then wrapped her tightly in a hug. His lips brushed gently across the top of her head and a soft 'mmmmmm' vibrated in his throat.

"How long have you been waiting to do that?" she asked.

"Forever," he sighed into her hair. His hand came again to the side of her face and with a gentle nudge he tilted her head back as his lips kissed their way across her cheek, "I'm not done yet," he smiled against her mouth and kissed her again. Gently this time they let their lips slide against each other, opening slowly to taste and then close again, feather light, until they fell deeper, a flick of a tongue, a glide of teeth, and then soft once more; until they finally paused with their lips apart only enough to breath in each other's air.

Kate's hand skimmed down the front of his chest under his jacket and rested on his stomach above his jeans. She could feel his arousal at her hip and she very deliberately pressed herself against him, "If we weren't in public you do realise we'd both be naked by now?" she told him.

"I'm close to not even letting the crowds stop me," Castle replied, his lips touching briefly against hers again.

"You wanna catch a cab?"

He chuckled and let his mouth fall to taste the skin at her collarbone, "Desperately; but let's not." He straightened up enough to be able to see her face, "Stay and have lunch together here in the park."

Kate formed her hands to fit against his sides and lifted her weight from him allowing him to push away from the railing, "Okay," she agreed; ready to give him anything he asked for in her newly conceived quest to demonstrate her commitment.

She started to step back, and Castle blew out a sharp puff of air and clutched at her, "Give me a minute. I don't think I can walk yet," his voice was light and joking despite being completely truthful.

Kate grinned at him and settled her hands against his chest again. The scent of him, the warmth of his skin through his shirt, the play of his muscles under her hands; it was intoxicating, and she dropped her head to breath him in. Her hands slid across soft cotton to bury between his shoulders and the weight of his jacket.

"That's not going to help," he said, wrapping her in his arms again.

"I know, but the feel of you against me... I need this, Castle." Her weight settled over him once more.

He held them up and resisted the impulse to lean back against the railing. Keeping his touch firm, meant to affirm rather than arouse, he cupped the back of her neck.

"I already have one arrest for public indecency. I'm not sure my record can take another one."

"You don't think you could come up with a convincing enough story to get the patrolman to let you off?"

"I'm not sure I could come up with a convincing argument of any kind at the moment."

With her heartbeat returning to normal Kate eased away again. Castle released the hand at her neck to let her go and instead caught her hand as it dropped to her side.

"How did our lunch fare?" he asked looking down at the bag abandoned on the ground.

Kate bent down and gathered everything together, "I wouldn't be opening your soda any time soon."

At Castle's tug on her hand she let him lead her away from the water and over to the grass.

###

They picked at their sandwiches, neither one apparently hungry, and shared the one bottle of juice; carrying out the facade of having lunch. Eventually Castle took his jacket off and spread it on the grass. Laying back he pulled Kate with him and she angled herself so that they lay in rough L shape, him on his back with his knees bent, and Kate on her stomach, supported by her elbows with her head on his chest.

Castle had one hand trailing over her hair and, after his fingers tangled in the braid one too many times, he pulled the band from the base of hair and worked his way up, massaging his fingers over her scalp and undoing each loop of the braid.

Kate smiled up at him, "Help yourself."

"I am." His chest shook with a quiet chuckle. His fingers kept up a steady pattern across her head, the long tresses gliding through his fingers.

"Feels nice," Kate told him after another minute of bliss.

The sun and the heat from his skin warmed her, and Kate reluctantly sat up onto her knees to remove her coat. Folding it in thirds she held it out towards Castle, and he lifted his head so she could slide the improvised pillow under before draping herself over his chest again. She fit herself under his arm and lay further over him this time, her ear flat against his chest over his heart with her knees slightly curled.

Together they lay quietly, minds drifting, their bodies in tune. Kate allowed herself to be soothed by the steady beat of his heart; loud under her ear. There was something healing about resting here with him; just two people in the park. She felt like 'Kate' – the old Kate for whom sunshine and playfulness and sweet kisses in the park would be unremarkable – and she was thankful that he had made this request of her.

Had he known what she hadn't; that she needed space and air and openness? Could he see that despite acknowledging her need for him that her instinct to retreat – either within herself or to the privacy and concealment of her apartment – was still a barrier between them?

When she finally decided they risked falling asleep in the sun, she started a slow caress of the skin of his arm and then up to his chest and over his nipples to tease at the bare skin above his collar. His body remained still and, if it weren't for the definite increase in the beat of his heart under her, she would have thought he had dozed off.

The steady burn in her belly was not unexpected, but the languid pleasure she felt certainly was. Kate thought she could be content to lay with him like this for hours. Even beyond the newness of it – beyond the sudden freedom to touch – she felt between them the strength of the connection they'd always shared as something almost tangible

The hand that had been laying motionless, draped over her waist, slowly came to life and cupped her side. Rick slid his hand along her body to rest just below the curve of her breast, with a gentle pressure on her side and with his other hand at the back of her head he nudged her up his body and lazily drew her to his mouth.

Kate held herself over the side of his torso and kissed him thoroughly.

"Let's get that cab now," he said breathlessly.

"I thought you'd never ask."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**The end...**

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Nah, just kidding ya!


	16. Chapter 16

**Minor panic attack averted! Madsthenerdygirl to the rescue! Now I can post this without worrying that you'll all overdose on fluffiness and sap.**

**enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Keep Showing Up<br>Chapter 16

* * *

><p>There was too much space between them in the cab and Kate decided they should have walked. A slow progression from the carefree riverside morning they had shared with laughing families and coffee drinking business moguls would have been easier than this sudden approach of intimacy and honesty and unavoidable confessions.<p>

They could have held hands and stopped for kisses. Instead Castle had chosen the worst possible time to be a gentleman; he sat with his hands in his lap looking straight ahead. Kate felt the two inch gap between them as a widening chasm and her confidence faltered. That wasn't part of the plan. The plan involved confidence and determination and commitment and promises and a great deal more kissing than was currently happening.

Kate reached over and burrowed her hand in between his, forcing apart the hold he had on his own hand and substituting hers. He turned to look at her; warmth in his eyes and the softest hint of a smile on his lips. Kate pulled at his hand and shuffled herself closer to him at the same time.

"Hold my hand, Castle; don't stop touching me."

"Okay," he promised, and traced gentle circles with his thumb over her palm and along the inside of her wrist.

Kate rested her other hand on his knee, and it was enough to ground her.

He didn't let go of her hand as she fumbled with her building keys, and he led her across the foyer and into the elevator. He hit the button for her floor before pulling her to him in a gentle hug. Kate's arms came around him in a tight embrace and she let his strength flow into her.

When she felt his kisses on her forehead she lifted up and they melted together; a slow and gentle exploration. Castle kept their kisses light. Each swipe of her tongue was met with a measured caress and a tender press of lips.

The elevator door opened and Kate stepped away just enough so that they could walk unfettered. At her door he let go of her hand and stood at her back, hands at her waist, while she unlocked it and let them in.

With the door closed behind them Kate fell against him. Her hands slid up the plane of his chest and over his shoulders, this time she continued the movement and forced his jacket back to slide off his arms.

Castle's hands were slower. He unknotted the tie of her coat and then brushed her hair back from her face. He ran a trail of kisses down her throat and stepped around her. One hand stayed tangled in her hair, lifting it from her neck, kissing the perfect length of skin he uncovered. The other stroked its way across her stomach lighting a path of fire in its wake. When he stood at her back he pulled her coat open and let it slip leisurely along the length of her arms. It joined its companion in a pile on the floor and Castle returned his lips to Kate's neck. His chest melded into her back, and then Kate's head fell back against his shoulder and her eyes slid shut.

He kept up his assault of her throat; peppering kisses along her jaw, his tongue caressing the edge of her ear, his lips capturing her lobe and sucking ever so gently. But his hands were a mere ghost of a presence resting on her hips.

His slow pace set Kate's blood to boiling and she fought a moan. Lifting her arms to hook around his head she pressed more fully back into him, needing to feel the full length of his body against her and wanting his hands on her belly, her breasts, her _anywhere._

But instead of spurring him to action she felt the tickle of his breath at her ear as he spoke, "We can do this without talking if that's what you need, but it would help me to know what was going on in your head."

Her body reacted to his voice so close to her ear and a shudder ran through her. It was an extra moment before the actual words sank in and she fought back a moan of a different kind.

Kate turned her head into his neck and tightened her grip on his head.

"My head's fine," she started, only to pause; considering. Castle had given her everything she'd needed in order to get to where they were. She was finally at a place where she could make that jump and take that risk and she couldn't bear the thought of him simply following her and not sharing that same level of trust. In her. In them.

Words were his stock in trade; and while she wanted desperately to give them to him she didn't know how to reduce the clutter and shambles of her mental meanderings into a concise explanation that would satisfy him.

"I _can_ talk about it, and I will if you need to." She turned in his arms to face him, a question in her eyes. "Come to the couch?"

He kept one hand at her hip and stayed at her side as they crossed the living space to the couch. Kate waited until Castle sat down, and then she pushed him back onto the pile of cushions in the corner and then fitted her length against his side.

She took a moment mentally reviewing and discarding words, trying to find a way to convince him, and she wished she had put as much time into rehearsing this speech as she had into imagining them naked together. In the end nothing profound came, and she said simply, "You gave me space when I needed it, so if you need to talk this through now; we'll talk. But I want this, Castle. I'm not second guessing myself, I'm not going to run scared. I'm here – all of me – I'm here right now."

"You've thought this through?" he asked, seriously.

Kate almost laughed. The months (the years) she'd spent thinking and overthinking their relationship and what it was, and what it wasn't, and what it could be... "Yeah, I've thought this through." She pushed up to see his face a little better, "I've been seeing a therapist. We talk about you; a lot."

"Really? You've told your therapist about me?"

"My therapist is probably sick of hearing about you."

"I think I like that... not that I make you need therapy, but that you've spoken about _us_."

"I know," she assured him, and ran her hand over his chest. Coming to a decision she sat up and swung one leg over his stomach to straddle his hips. "So, Castle, you have two options," she grinned down at him alluringly, "We can talk and I will happily convince you that this is real or," she peeled her t-shirt off and threw it behind her, "I could just show you?"

With Kate hovering above him in pale blue satin and lace he really didn't have much of a choice, "I'll take option B," he said huskily, his hands already gliding over her thighs to clutch at her hips. Both thumbs traced the protuberance of bone and then dipped across her curves to stroke the soft skin of her bare stomach.

"Good choice," she pressed her hands onto his chest, knelt over him, and kissed him convincingly.

The steady thrum of passion and arousal that had kept her on edge for the better part of the day became a pounding in her head and an exquisite throbbing between her legs. She attempted to savour the feel of him under her; the way her hands slid across the smooth cotton of his shirt and the tantalizing hint of muscle it concealed, his hands exploring her back, his tongue teasing and flicking and drawing her in ever deeper, but – oh – the solid press of his stomach right where she needed him had her fighting her every instinct not to grind into him.

She lasted a minute; a minute of hot, wet kisses and wandering hands and soft moans and delicate nips of teeth against sensitive skin before her hips took over and she was pushing into him.

Castle's hands were immediately at her waist and pushing her just a little further down his body, angling her up and guiding her movements. They moaned together, their kiss broken and mouths panting hot air as Kate rocked over his erection. She felt him hard against her and the flood of arousal was instant.

"We feel good together," she whispered.

"Does that surprise you?"

"No, I'm amazed," she kissed his cheek, "astounded," another kiss to the side of his nose, "flabbergasted," his other cheek, "stunned senseless..." she pecked a kiss to his lips, "but not surprised."

His lips formed a smile against her mouth and they held there for a moment both trying to steady themselves and temper their desire. Then Castle launched another assault on her mouth, his tongue invading and sliding against her own. She opened her mouth fully to him, pressed in with another roll of her hips and then she had her hands under his shirt in a desperate bid for skin. He had the same idea and his hands found the clasp of her bra. The sensation of his hands cupping and squeezing her breasts had her fighting to keep her eyes open, but she wanted to see him, watch his eyes as they tracked across her; the intensity of emotion written on his face was something she'd never seen from him before.

Kate scratched her nails along the sensitive skin on his side, palmed his stomach, dropped her mouth to his nipples and revelled in the way his head fell back and his hips pressed into her. She had the button of his jeans popped open but was loathe to lift up off him to remove their clothes, not wanting to lose a second of the ecstasy of having him against her.

"Did you want to go upstairs to the bedroom?" he asked, fumbling with her jeans.

"No, I'm fine here." Kate kneeled over him and tried to tug his pants off his hips without having to stand up. He loaned his own hands to the job of ridding himself of clothing. He kicked his joggers off and wiggled out of his jeans.

Kate ignored her own clothes for a moment in order to run her hands over the jutting peak of his boxers. He was hot and hard in her hand and she leaned in to kiss his mouth as her fist wrapped around him. He growled her name and curved a hand around her neck holding her mouth tight against him, sucking her tongue, pumping his hips to slide through the grip of her hand.

He tore away with a guttural cry and worked once again at her jeans. Giving up, Kate stood up quickly and shucked her own shoes, socks, and jeans. She hesitated for a moment at her panties and then stripped those off as well.

His eyes never leaving her, Castle lifted his own hips from the couch and removed his boxers. She couldn't resist flicking her eyes across him and she made a silent promise to spend more time enjoying the view next time. For now, the insistent ache that pounded from her chest to her clit was impossible to ignore. Turning back to his face she flashed a victorious smile at his hazed expression before coming back to lie beside him, her body half angled over his, one leg draped across his hips, his erection bumping hard against her inner thigh.

He shuffled to accommodate her and press as much of their bodies together as possible, gloriously naked, then bought his lips back to hers, "You're not uncomfortable?" he asked between kisses.

She dropped her open mouth to his throat and licked up the side of his neck before panting in his ear, "Castle?"

"Kate?" he questioned.

"You could fuck me on the floor and I wouldn't care. Now shut up and kiss me."

He laughed against her skin before doing as commanded. His hands wrapped around her and pressed hard down the length of her spine before separating at the curve of her bottom. One hand turned to run the length of her thigh where it lay draped over him, the other moved, fingers splayed, to cup her arse and pull her further into him.

With one hand trapped between them Kate had to content herself with exploring his chest and running her fingers through his hair. When his questing fingers surmounted the curve of her arse and continued to the valley below she jerked into him, her fingernails digging into his shoulder.

Marvelling at the slippery smooth satin wetness he found at her centre Castle stretched further down her body trailing his fingers through the length of her. He mumbled divinities and cursed her name, lost in the proof of her desire for him. He tried to arch his body, lengthen his reach, but barely glanced across the hyper sensitive tip of her clit.

Kate's teeth closed over his lip, biting hard, as she growled out his name. His cock twitched at the double onslaught; her exultant cries and the intense pleasure her bite inflicted.

"I need you, Castle." Her tongue was wet in his ear.

He wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over. Kate looked up at him, wide-eyed, and huffed a breath in surprise, "God, yes," she exclaimed, and wrapped her legs around him.

Her hands fell between them and she couldn't resist a slide of her fingers through her own folds, she was so incredibly aroused she knew she would be unable to last once he entered her but her clit demanded attention. She cupped his balls first, and then palmed them, rolling against him. He shuddered over her and his voice broke when he said, "I won't last, Kate."

Tilting her head up for a kiss she gripped him and, circling the end of him against her, glided him through her wetness.

He pulled back suddenly in a moment of clarity, "Kate?"

"I'm okay, I'm safe," she replied, thinking both that she was on the pill and her yearly blood tests were recent and clean.

"I've not been with anyone since... forever," he replied, thinking Gina but not saying it.

She'd never suspected otherwise, and she was done with talking. She tightened her grip with her legs and pulled him back, her hand guiding him inside her.

Two strangled sighs came in concert at the sensation and Castle moved slowly to fill her. Kate wrapped her arms around his back. He dropped his head to the curve of her neck, his full weight coming on to her.

The hitch in her breathing told him she was as close as he was, and he tilted his hips knowing just how to angle himself to put pressure on her clit while driving deeper inside her.

With a cry Kate arched her hips, pressing as tight to him as possible, hands clawing, her muscles contracting around him. Her pleasure ended him and he lost himself fully in the warmth of her. His mouth closed on her neck, and her hips rocked once more.

They stayed together, trading gentle kisses, hands trailing languorously; absorbing the connection between them.

###

Their breathing slowed and Castle eventually slipped from inside her and rolled against the back of the couch. His hands teased and tickled their way across her chest, one finger circling her breasts and then down to loop around her belly button raising goose bumps in their wake.

Kate fought off her growing desire and turned to press a chaste kiss to his chest.

"You want me again and you know it," his chest rumbled with the teasing words.

"I really do," she replied honestly, turning a seductive smile his way.

He laughed at that, and wrapped her in a hug, "I want to take you to dinner and go ice skating and climb the Empire State Building and get lost in the City Library..."

"Now?" she asked with puzzled amusement.

"No. Not now! Just... I want all those things for us, Kate."

"I do, too."

"You'd go ice skating with me? Let me twirl you around until you got dizzy? Climb to the top of the city and let me kiss you as the sun sets?"

"I let you kiss me in the park." She pressed up above him on the couch to see his face better, "Why wouldn't I be okay with us kissing at the top of the Empire State Building? I'm not so sure about the dizziness though, how good are you on skates?"

She waited for him to answer, but he kept his expression serious with his eyes flicking back and forth across her face.

"I meant it when I said I was all in," she said eventually, needing to convince him.

"And at the station?"

She sat up then, a dose of reality sobering her mood, "That's work, Castle. I can't be _this_ person when we're at a crime scene," she felt a little frustrated that she even had to explain it to him, "We have to be Detective Beckett and... well, _you,_ I suppose, when we're at work. But Kate will still be here when we finish."

"Okay," he agreed, sitting up and running a finger over her forehead to smooth the creases that had appeared.

"Okay? Just like that?"

"Yes, just like that. I agree with you, but I needed to hear you say it. I need you to tell me your boundaries because I'm not going to guess at this with you."

She came back into the circle of his arms and nuzzled her nose against his shoulder, "I won't always think to tell you. There are going to be times when you have to ask."

"Then I will ask," he assured her.

"Sometimes, the way you look at me, I forget you can't already see into the depths of my soul."

"I told you before that you were a puzzle I could never hope to solve. I'm still no closer to figuring you out."

"You know me better than anyone, Castle."

"I want to know you inside and out."

Kate chuckled wickedly, "Really? Then how about you help me in the shower and we work on 'inside' a little more?"

###

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**A/N- your homework for today is to imagine the shower scene...**


	17. Chapter 17

Keep Showing Up  
>Chapter 17<p>

* * *

><p>Her wet hair stuck to her chest and she felt cold droplets of water chase along her skin to pool in the hollow between her breasts. With a playful laugh Castle tickled her sides and straddled her, bending to run the flat of his tongue across her pebbled skin.<p>

A soft dry towel followed his tongue as he made a futile attempt to dry them both after their shower. Kate grabbed it from his hands and took one rough swipe across his chest with it, barely drying anything, before she spread it out over the pillows and flopped back on to the bed.

Castle spread himself beside her, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist despite the fact that she was still fully naked. She rolled onto her side to face him and let her hand go in search of his, wrapping their fingers together.

The lightness in her chest was altogether unfamiliar and for a moment she fought it, before she breathed out a long sigh and rolled her body to nuzzle against him. Her laughter bubbled up and then just as suddenly stopped and she was surprised to feel tears pooling and a pressure behind her eyes. She puffed out a breath and snuggled in tighter.

Castle caught the sudden stillness of her body and moved down lower so that their faces were in line.

Before he had a chance to ask the question, Kate answered him, "I'm fine." The words sounded vastly inadequate and she squeezed his hand, "I'm happy, Castle. You make me happy." A lone tear escaped and trailed across her nose to drop against the pillow.

He untangled their fingers and bought both arms up to cradle her head, kissing the glistening trail once, and then again, "Kate," it was a benediction and he managed, within the sound and shape of her name, to pledge his love.

She tried to focus on him through the shimmering of tears and couldn't. She closed her eyes, and another tear fell free. His thumb came to swipe across her eyelid, followed by the press of his lips. The perfect rightness of them together surrounded her and she burrowed passed his hands and back into his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He answered her by cradling her close and trailing his hands across her back, his lips resting against the wet hair plastered to her ear.

She tugged at the towel around his waist, trying to remove it.

"My god, woman! Let me rest," he said dramatically.

"Shush!" She wacked his chest, "I don't want this between us," she said, finally successful in pulling the towel away, "But if twice in one afternoon is your limit then let me know now," she said archly.

He laughed at her and immediately tangled their legs together. Kate lay back against him and let the feel of his skin soothe her. Having run the gamut of her emotions throughout the day she was content to just be.

A long moment later she caught the faint sound of her cell phone ringing downstairs, and at the tilt of her head Castle paused in his slow aimless caresses.

"I suppose I should get that," she said reluctantly.

"Are you on call?"

"No," she started to roll away from him, "but I should check it anyway. I'll be straight back."

She disappeared through the bedroom door, skipping quickly down the stairs to find her phone in the pocket of her coat.

She had two missed calls and two text messages; all from Lanie. Kate remembered their loose plans for drinks and she called her straight back. She held her coat against her naked front to ward off the chill and waited for her friend to pick up.

"Hey, Lanie."

"Kate, finally! I've been calling you!"

"I know, sorry, I was in the shower and must have missed you."

"Why were you in the shower? Don't tell me you spent your day off jogging around the park like a crazy person again!"

Kate laughed at her aversion to jogging, "No, a whole other kind of exercise," she said, suggestively.

Her tone made her friend pause, "I'm sorry, _what_?"

Kate stifled a giggle and glanced up the stairs to her bedroom.

"No! Hang on, back up," Lanie reshuffled her thoughts, "What kind of exercise?" she asked, just as prepared for an answer of cross country skiing or basejumping as she was for any form of exercise that might elicit such a tenor in her friend's voice.

"Are you phoning about drinks tonight?" Kate asked.

"Don't you dare change the subject!"

"I'm not. I was just going to say that it looks like I'll be busy after all."

"Katherine Beckett! You didn't!"

"I did," Kate couldn't help her smile.

A deafening round of girlish squeals broken by a chant of "_yes, yes, yes_" had Kate holding the phone away from her ear. "I'll leave you to your celebrations. I have to go."

"Oh, no you don't! I want details."

"Not today. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Hang on! What's the date?"

"What?"

"The date! How long ago was Ryan's wedding?"

"Lanie, don't you dare tell me –"

"Fine. I won't tell you anything, but I think you just won me some money. After seeing the two of you on the dancefloor together I gave you a month."

"Thanks for the support," she said sarcastically.

"Girl, I've been cheering you on from the sidelines for years!"

"I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"I'll phone early."

Kate laughed at her teasing, "Don't bother," she said, ending the call.

She gathered up Castle's jacket from off the floor and carried them back upstairs. She found him under the blankets, laying on his side, waiting for her. His eyes took her in; travelling the full length of her body. He flipped back a corner of the blankets and opened his arms to her.

"We're going back to bed?" she asked, placing the coats on her corner chair.

"Technically, we haven't really been to bed yet," he said.

She climbed in next to him. Her body was cold against his and she poked her toes between his calves. The slide of their skin together bought a delicate flutter to her belly and Kate sighed against him, amazed once more at what his touch did to her.

"I'm just now fully realising that we spent the_ entire _afternoon together – naked," he said.

"Making love," she murmured, without thinking.

He paused at that, moving away slightly and searching her face for clues.

Kate cursed herself for saying it so casually and tried to find something to say without taking it back. She spread her fingers and swept them across his chest to settle over his heart, "You know how I feel about you, just as I know how you feel about me. Can we just let today speak for itself?"

Castle nodded deliberately and, with his eyes open, he leaned in to kiss her lightly. His own hand moved from her hip to press against her upper chest; his hand spread wide, splaying down from her throat and between her breasts. His index finger stopped to circle the evidence of the last time her heart was so exposed, before it came to rest atop her left breast. He kept his hand flat, not caressing, but claiming, "This is mine," he said in a fervent whisper.

Kate nodded solemnly, and came to rest against him; she was his.

###

The light through the windows was dimming when Kate finally spoke, "We should order in food."

"Would either of us have to get up?" She smiled at the languid tone of his voice and then her smile turned into a face-splitting grin as he stretched against her and took both her hands and spread them wide across the bed. It could have been an extremely intimate position but he nuzzled her neck playfully and whined in her ear, "I don't want to get up."

"Find some pants, Castle, and I'll take you out for dinner."

"Really?" he lifted away from her as he considered that idea, "Going out somewhere with you sounds vaguely enticing, but the pants idea is sorta killing it for me."

"Either way I need food. What's your call, lover-boy."

"Do we have pet names for each other now?" His grip on her arms loosened.

"No, we don't," she twisted her hands to tighten around his wrists, linked their legs, and spun him over, "That wasn't a pet name; that was me razzing you. Now buck up and make a decision about dinner," she wacked his chest.

"I love it when you get bossy."

"I know," she half winked at him, "but, dinner!" She climbed off him and got out of bed, "I'm gonna call for Chinese, you're too slow."

Kate grabbed a pair of boyshorts from her dresser and slipped them on before reaching for her phone.

"Am I staying overnight?" he asked, hesitantly.

She looked up, startled, "I assumed you would, but if you have to leave that's okay," she said, although it really wasn't.

"No. I want to stay. I should just text Alexis and let her know," he explained.

"Of course." She found his jacket on the chair, his phone in the pocket, and passed it over.

"Kate," he called, and waited for her to look at him, "It wouldn't be okay; don't say it if you don't mean it."

She just nodded, and held his stare for a moment, acknowledging the lie. She waited until he looked away before she breathed again. Once he was busy typing on his phone she placed her call.

"The usual?" she asked while the phone was ringing, realising she'd forgotten to ask what he wanted.'

"Yeah, whatever you order is fine."

She wandered to her closet and took down a loose long sleeve shirt, then managed to pull it over her head while rattling off their selection of noodles and rice. She turned to find Castle leaning against the headboard, blankets to his waist and his phone in his lap, watching her with an expression of affectionate wonder. It made her feet stop, and she decided she liked the look of him tousled and lazy in her bed.

Turning back to her closet she slid hangers along until she found what she was looking for; a blue flannel shirt she'd kept hanging there for a while. "Here ya go," she said, throwing it towards him.

"Where did this come from?" he asked, recognising it.

"Hmm? I'm not sure."

"Kaaaate," he smirked.

"Seriously, Castle, I'm not sure. It was just in my washing one day... after L.A I think."

"And you never gave it back?"

"I figured you'd get it eventually."

"It smells like you," his voice was muffled by the fabric as he pulled it on.

"I washed it," she said, as if it were obvious and the only explanation.

"Hmm. I don't suppose you happen to have any of my underwear stashed in your closet?"

"Fresh out," she shot back, and he laughed at her.

Castle swung his legs over the edge of the bed and Kate stepped over to him before he had a chance to stand. She stood inside the V of his legs and scratched her fingernails through his hair above his ears and around to the back of his head. He tilted to look up at her and she dropped a kiss on his forehead. Hooking his hands around her knees he ran his fingers, tickling, up the back of her legs until he reached the line of her underwear. He kept his hands on the bare skin just below the curve of her bottom, and rested his head on her stomach.

Her hands cradled him there, his face pressed into her belly, her hands massaging his scalp and his neck. Then she stepped over his thighs and pressed her knees, one at a time, back onto the mattress; sitting in his lap.

His arms wrapped around her, helping her to balance on him, as he leaned back to look at her with a question in the sparkle of his eyes. She smiled as she leaned her weight forward, unbalancing him, and said against his ear, "We've got thirty minutes before the food gets here."

###

They sat on the floor between the coffee table and the lounge wearing shirts, underwear, and socks, a blanket draped over their bare legs, as they shared out the containers of food. Kate kept their legs tangled together; a physical reminder that tonight was different to the many other nights they'd sat together over takeout.

"Is Alexis okay with you staying here?" she asked between mouthfuls.

"Mmm hmm. She told me your bed was comfortable and I should ask for an upgrade from the couch," he laughed, but she could read the embarrassment in his voice.

"What did you tell her?"

"I haven't replied yet."

"She's a big girl, Castle."

"I know, and she won't have a problem with this," he indicated between them.

"She as much as told me that when she was here the other night."

"Really? Is this the conversation you swore I'd never get out of you?"

Kate tried to hide her smile at the triumph in his voice and she angled another mouthful of noodle onto her tongue.

"It seems your resolve can't stand against my methods of persuasion after all."

"You really don't want to test that theory," she dared him.

"I like a challenge," he raised his eyebrow at her, and stole a piece of chicken from her bowl.

###

It was late when they finally went to bed – together – after an evening of conversation and quiet moments, playfulness and fragments of serious consideration.

Kate allowed Castle to skirt around the looming presence of her mom's murder; an acknowledgement that that darkness still shadowed them, and in return Castle accepted her wordless promise that they'd deal with it when they had to.

They turned out lights, closed curtains, moved around the bathroom together, chose sides of the bed and then, under the blankets, they reached for each other. With relaxed kisses and whispered "goodnights" Castle turned her onto her side and pressed up along her back. His arm draped over her and she held it against her chest. Wrapped in each other's arms; they slept.

###

Kate woke to warm breath on her neck and a heavy weight over her hips. One arm was squashed underneath her and it tingled from lack of blood. Her neck felt stiff; no doubt from the hard length of Castle's arm where it ran under her concealed beneath her pillow. Her thighs ached; the twinge of muscles gone long-unused. Her hand was being gripped too tightly in one of his. She was remarkably uncomfortable; and it made her smile.

His fingers twitched and flexed against her hand; he was still dreaming. Kate gently untangled her hand and reached to her bedside table for her phone to check the time. Her alarm was due to go off in ten minutes; she turned it off and placed it back beside the bed.

Rolling over, into him rather than away, she rotated so that his weight came down onto her stomach instead of her back. Her movements jostled him, and his arm flexed under her. He tightened his grip and his leg pushed into her hip as his other arm skimmed over her belly and took a firm hold of her breast. His voice rumbled in her ear, a sigh of "Kate", and his breath caused goose bumps along her neck. His breathing remained even and slow; asleep.

She wasn't surprised to discover he was a snuggler, but this bed-hog version of intimacy – as endearingly 'Castle' as it was – was going to have to stop... mmmmm... maybe tomorrow. She placed her hand over his on her breast and played with his fingers.

When he hadn't woken minutes later Kate became bolder with her caresses. She ran one hand along his side and turned her mouth to his ear. With the softest of whispers she breathed his name into his ear, "Castle."

He didn't stir.

"Castle," she breathed again, adding a kiss.

Nothing.

"Castle." She tried once more; slightly louder, and with a flick of her tongue.

His leg twitched over her, once, his breath stayed steady.

"Mmmm, Castle," she dropped her voice, almost moaning into his ear, and took a longer swipe with her tongue.

Still nothing; the man slept like a log. She decided it called for more desperate measures.

"Ohhhhh, _Castle_!" she moaned loudly, added a pant and a short gasp.

His hand tightened on her and his head shifted. A confused mumble rolled from him, "Huh?"

"Castle, oh, god! _Castle_!" Meg Ryan's performance had nothing on Kate Beckett's, and she growled into his ear.

He came fully awake with a startle; impassioned cries, a writhing body under him, naked skin – all Kate's – had him both aroused and confused.

"Kate?"

"Good morning, Castle," she pecked him on the lips quickly and then pushed him off of her, and rolled out of bed; grinning.

"What –?" He rubbed his hand over his face and looked around, "Are you getting up already?"

"You slept through all the action this morning," she teased him; "I need to be at work in an hour."

"Noooo, come on!" He reached for her legs.

"You snooze, you lose."

"Come back to bed."

His puppy dog eyes had her tempted to give in. Instead she sashayed to the bathroom door and leaned against the frame giving him a good view of her naked rear, "If you hurry up you can join me in the shower."

He was up and by her side in an instant.

###

The cold fog of morning saw them walking the short block to the metro station together; hardly late at all. Traffic was heavy around them and the sidewalk filled with their fellow early morning commuters. They stood at the corner, hands loosely clasped, leaning into each other.

"I'll see you later this morning," she angled up for a kiss, her heels bringing her easily to within reach of his lips.

"You'll see me in an hour," he pecked a kiss on her mouth, "I'll have your coffee. I'll sit beside you and stare at you while you do paperwork. I'll make you smile," He tucked a strand of fly-away hair behind her ear, "I'll make you frown. I'll make you want to take me in the janitor's closet," he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at that, "and I'll do my best not to make you want to strangle me too badly. But I'll be there."

Smiling, she stepped back from him and squeezed his hand before letting go, "Then I'll be waiting."

###

* * *

><p>.<p>

**The End**

**(really, this time!)**

**Although i do hate to prove Nathan Fillion right about it all being over once they get naked...**

**Thanks immensely for all the reviews and story alerts and favourites etc! It's nice to write and know that someone is reading (and enjoying) it with you.**


End file.
